A Fascinating Fixation of Fanged Puffskeins
by drwatsonn
Summary: "Let me be absolutely clear about one thing: I did not fancy Sirius Black. In fact, I'd rather have a fascinating fixation of fanged puffskeins than him." Sirius Black was everything she despised and more. And yet, she couldn't help noticing him. All the time. Her life was supposed to be simple; then why was he so insistent on making it anything but? DISCONTINUED
1. Mudbloods and Other Assorted Curses

**Disclaimer:** _All rights go to JK Rowling. Anything you don't recognize is mine._

 **Confession: I love the Marauders too much. I physically cannot stop myself from writing about them. Thus, this story was born.**

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Chapter One: Mudbloods and Other Assorted Curses

I was staring at him – again.

It was by sheer accident though, totally harmless and innocent, an honest mistake. At least, that was what I kept telling myself, though the argument started to lose its integrity after I had repeated it to myself for the fourteenth time since finishing my exam.

The large hourglass at the front of the Great Hall was running low, the sand trickling into the bottom at an alarming rate, and those who weren't finished with the essay portion of the Defense Against the Dark Arts exam were beginning to scribble furiously, rushed for time. I flicked my eyes away from _him_ long enough to catch a glimpse of Severus Snape with his hooked nose pressed nearly flat against his parchment, his pale spider-like hand twitching his quill rapidly to form words, and I balked as I noticed he had written almost two whole feet of parchment. I had only managed one and a half, and I was slightly miffed about it now that I saw how much he had written.

"Five more minutes!"

I jumped at the sound of Professor Flitwick's squeaky voice; the Hall was completely silent, save for the mad scratching of quills and the occasional rustles of papers, and his voice was like a tiny trumpet call in the great room. Those who were still writing became harried and flushed, and I watched them in some amusement, drumming my fingertips on top of my desk.

I had finished my exam almost twenty minutes ago, which was why I wasn't cramming sentences together like a lunatic ( _ahem,_ Snape). I was a little bit nervous that I had finished so quickly, and I couldn't help wondering if I had gotten everything wrong despite thinking it was one of the easiest exams I had taken this week. Maybe it was easy _because_ I was wrong. Or was it easy because I knew all the material already? Maybe I had gotten my concepts mixed up. There _was_ that one question about the distinguishing traits of a werewolf that I hadn't been so sure about…

 _Enough, G,_ I scolded myself internally. _You're freaking out over nothing._

I made a visible effort to relax myself, letting out the breath I had been holding and rolling my shoulders, trying to get the stiffness out of them. My brothers liked to joke that my posture was so straight because I had fallen on a meter stick when I was a child and it had gone up my…well, you know where, but they'd be as stiff as I was if they had had half the pressure placed on them as on me. I was the perfect child, the Ravenclaw, the prodigy. Anything less than flawless was a great travesty in my parents' eyes, but since my brothers were all Gryffindors, they got the free pass.

I glanced around the Hall out of boredom, determined to keep my eyes away from _him._ Two rows to my right and three behind sat my best friend, Florence Bellchant. She was staring at her parchment, unblinking, and several of her chestnut curls were sticking out at odd angles, probably from when she had gripped her hair desperately, as she did whenever she got too nervous. I had to roll my eyes at her antics; we had spent the last two nights revising for this exam, and I knew she had understood all the material, but I also knew that that wasn't going to stop her from worrying. It was practically a part of her personality at this point.

My eyes swept from desk to desk, pausing on anyone I knew or glossing over them completely. Discreetly tilting my head left, I let my gaze drift over the boy sitting two seats away from me, trying not to make my observation of him too noticeable. Remus Lupin was another Gryffindor and fellow Prefect, but also my competitor; we had been battling for the top spot in the class since our first year, and I glared at him from where I sat, watching him reread his answers as he scratched his chin with his quill. He looked a bit pale and peaky, and I felt smug at this, hoping his nervousness was costing him – not severely, of course, but just a few points to ensure that I had the better score.

Not too far away from Lupin sat mousy Peter Pettigrew, who was chewing on his nails and occasionally darting his eyes to his neighbor's paper, adding something new to his parchment after each glance, but I wasn't surprised; Pettigrew lacked talent, and after catching him cheating off me in Transfiguration third year, I had disliked him ever since. At first it had been a mystery to me as to why he hung around blokes like Lupin, who were so far out of his league, but I had to give the Gryffindor credit; if you were going to be insignificant, you might as well find some mates who made you look better than you really were.

A loud _crack_ drew my attention away from Pettigrew, and I looked to see another one of his more talented friends, James Potter, seated further in front of me, tilting his head from side to side and popping his neck. He set down his quill and reached up to rumple his already messy hair, and after sneaking a glance at Professor Flitwick, he turned around and grinned at a boy sitting four seats behind him, and two before me.

 _Bugger._

Of course, he would look at _him._ It was like the messy-haired boy had read my thoughts and was now taunting me with the one thing I had told myself to stop doing. I couldn't help myself though; I had to see.

I shifted my gaze to the back of _his_ head, my stomach experiencing the same sharp jolt it got whenever I saw _him_ – Sirius Black.

He was lounging casually in his chair, tilting it back on two legs, and he shook out his mane of wavy black locks, my heart skipping several beats at the motion. He gave the thumbs-up to Potter, and I found myself staring at his hand, marveling at the olive tone of it and the graceful elegance of his fingers. They looked like they belonged on a piano player, but they were far too rough for that, calloused and worn from being a Beater on the Gryffindor Quidditch team.

He dropped his hand as Professor Flitwick turned back around, and I shifted my gaze away hastily, hoping no one had seen me practically drooling over the dark-haired boy. I doubted anyone had actually noticed; Florence was the only one who knew of my guilty little pleasure, and I intended to keep it that way.

Let me be absolutely clear about one thing: I did not fancy Sirius Black. In fact, I'd rather have a fascinating fixation of fanged puffskeins than him. It was no desire of mine to shack up with him in a broom cupboard at night like he was rumored to do with a new girl almost every week, and even so, he had no idea who I was. I had never spoken to him before, and the only contact we had ever had was in second year, when all this madness had started: he had bumped into me in the corridor once, barely sparing me a glance before muttering, "Sorry," and trotting off with his mates. Ever since then, I had made cringeworthy efforts to seek him out, only to admire him from afar.

I was perfectly content with him not giving me the time of day. It would spare everyone in the vicinity considerable embarrassment. He was just someone you couldn't help noticing, like a star twinkling out at you from the vastness of space and being the only thing you saw for hundreds of miles. His devastating good looks, his Quidditch talent, his brains, his charm…he had it all. Unfortunately, he knew it too, and that was why I kept far away from him. I didn't need someone like that to wreck all my life's plans on a whim; he was a rebel at heart, and no one could change that. I needed stability and sanity, and he needed… Well, someone who wasn't me.

"Quills down, please!" squeaked Professor Flitwick. "That means you too, Stebbins! Please remain seated while I collect your parchment! _Accio!"_

More than a hundred rolls of parchment zoomed into the air and into Professor Flitwick's outstretched arms, knocking him backward off his feet. Several people laughed. A couple of students at the front desks got up, took hold of Professor Flitwick beneath the elbows, and lifted him onto his feet again.

"Thank you…thank you," panted Professor Flitwick, waving his wand and vanishing the pile of papers to somewhere they would be graded. "Very well, everybody, you're free to go!"

I jumped to my feet, hastily stashing my quill and the exam question paper into my bag and slinging it over my shoulder. I watched as Black stood and stretched luxuriously, and I'm sure an audible sigh escaped my lips as he went to join Potter, Lupin, and Pettigrew.

"I knew I should've expected to find you making heart eyes at Black."

I turned quickly at the sound of the voice, my face flushing as Florence raised her brows at me, a half-amused, half-exasperated smirk on her face.

"I wasn't making _heart eyes,"_ I insisted, casting a nervous look around us, but no one was paying any attention.

"Please, I'm surprised you could even focus on your exam with him sitting two seats in front of you," she said, rolling her eyes as the talk in the Hall swelled, people beginning to stream out in great crowds.

"It was a challenge, but I rose to meet it with grace and resilience," I said, and she laughed, shaking her head.

"C'mon, stalker, I see Hess and Sera."

We wound our way through the rows of desks until we caught up to the other two girls who shared our dorm, Hestia Jones and Seraphina Selwyn. Hestia waved when she saw us, but Sera was chattering on as we approached, her voice reaching an octave that resembled Professor Flitwick's squeak.

"I _know_ I messed up on Noval's Theory of Counterproductive Defensive Spells – my mind just blanked! And question thirty-eight I didn't understand at all — "

"Florence, Georgie!" Hestia said, cutting off Sera's rambling with a relieved expression. "How'd it go?"

Florence shrugged. "Not too shabby."

I scoffed, nudging her shoulder. "You were practically pulling out clumps of your hair at one point, Flo. Don't act blasé."

"I'm sorry that not all of us are at the top of the class, Miss Perfect," she said, rolling her eyes, and I only gave her an indulgent smile in return.

"Well, I guess we'll all find out our scores over the summer, after we take Transfiguration first, of course," Hestia said, tucking a strand of black hair behind her ear. "This means that we're almost done with OWLs! We should celebrate!"

Sera perked up at the word 'celebrate.' "Soiree by the lake?"

We all exchanged a glance, not even needing to confirm our unanimous answer out loud, and we giggled, falling into place amongst the exiting students and speculating what kind of party the fifth year Ravenclaws would be having later that week due to the blessed end of OWLs.

I snuck a quick glance over my shoulder, a shock of excitement going through me when I saw that the four Gryffindor boys were walking behind us, laughing uproariously at something that Lupin had said. I could see students all around us gazing to the famously dubbed 'Marauders' as we herded out of the Great Hall, their expressions hopeful, as if they wished to be noticed by them. Not one of them saw me, comfortable to be on the outside looking in, complacent in the knowledge that I would never be seen like the rest of them wanted to be.

In my staring spell, I hadn't noticed how close behind Hestia I had gotten, and I stumbled when I stepped on the back of her shoe, causing the other girl to trip and grab on to Sera's shoulder to keep her balance.

"Bloody hell, Georgie!" she said, turning around to eye me in exasperation. "Watch where you're stepping!"

"Sorry," I said, adjusting my bag strap awkwardly and hoping the boys still walking behind us hadn't noticed my blunder. They were still laughing away though, totally oblivious, so I was in the clear.

We made our way out onto the grounds, the summer breeze blissfully cool against the beating rays of the late afternoon sun, and the expansive lawn was filled with gamboling students, everyone taking advantage of the good weather. I followed behind my three friends, hearing the Marauders' chatter fading, but I tried not to feel disappointed about it.

"Merlin, it feels great to be outside again," Hestia said, flopping down onto a patch of grass near the lakeshore and kicking off her shoes, wiggling her toes.

"I almost forgot what fresh air tastes like," Sera agreed, sprawling on her stomach while Florence and I sat beside them. Florence followed their lead and stretched out on her back, but I remained crisscross, discreetly angling myself to where I could see the Marauders lounging underneath their signature beech tree.

Potter had brought out a struggling Golden Snitch from his pocket, and I wondered how he had gotten his hands on one since they were supposed to be locked up in the school's broom shed save for Quidditch practices and games; then again, after all the feats he had achieved over the years, I wasn't too terribly shocked at this one, but I couldn't help frowning as I watched him release it, only to snatch it back every time, Pettigrew's fawning evident even from where I was sitting, well out of earshot. Every time he grabbed the Snitch, he would rumple his hair even more and glance down to the water's edge, where another gaggle of girls sat cooling their feet in the shallows, and I snorted to myself when I saw the vivid flash of red hair that had to be Lily Evans, the target of Potter's affections since the first year.

"What about you, G?" Sera asked, pulling me away from my observation of the Marauders, and I realized with a faint flare of guilt that I hadn't been listening to their conversation at all. "Any special plans this holiday?"

"Not really," I said, shrugging and beginning to shred blades of grass I had plucked from the ground. "Just the same things I normally do. My parents have been writing me about early internships at the Ministry though, so I might have to do that."

"Yuck," she said, wrinkling her nose, and I shrugged again. "Well, if you ever get bored being a goody two-shoes, you can always come stay at my place for a week."

I gave her a faint smile. "We'll see."

I had nothing against Sera, really; she was sweet, despite being high-strung and slightly neurotic at times, but her family was what made me wary. The Selwyns were a highly regarded pure-blood family, part of the Sacred Twenty-Eight, and they were rather…outspoken in their views of blood purity in the wizarding world. Sera seemed completely indifferent to it all, which was reassuring, but I was sure her family would look down on me if I were to visit; although I had been born to both wizard parents, I was still undeniably a half-blood, and to the new regime, I was lesser than a pure-blood because of it.

"All right, Snivellus?"

The shout echoed across the grounds as if Potter's voice had been amplified, and I turned to see him and Black on their feet, staring at Severus Snape in avid anticipation as the sallow boy walked back toward the castle.

At the sound of Potter's voice, however, Snape had plunged his hand inside his robes, almost as if he had been expecting the attack, and his wand was halfway into the air when Potter shouted, _"Expelliarmus!"_

Snape's wand flew twelve feet into the air and landed with a little thud in the grass behind him. Black let out a bark of laughter, and my eyes darted to him quickly before I looked away, feeling Florence's gaze on my face.

 _"Impedimenta!"_ Black said, almost lazily, pointing his wand at Snape, who was knocked off his feet after making a dive toward his own fallen wand.

Students all around had turned to watch. Some of them had gotten to their feet and were edging nearer, their faces ranging from apprehensive to entertained. My friends were in the former category.

"Why do they have to pick on the poor boy so much?" Hestia said, worrying at her lower lip. "I get that he's a Slytherin and that he runs round with a bad crowd and all, but they torment him almost daily! What's he ever done?"

"Who knows what goes on in those deranged Gryffindors' heads?" Sera said, running a hand through her platinum hair and trying to maintain an air of nonchalance, but I could see her fiddling with the sleeve of her robes uneasily.

Florence stayed silent, and my face began to heat as her eyes flicked between the scene unfolding before us and me, and I knew she was carefully gauging my reaction.

Snape lay panting on the ground. Potter and Black advanced on him, wands up, Potter glancing over his shoulder at Evans still by the water's edge as he went. Pettigrew was on his feet now too, watching hungrily, edging around Lupin to get a better view while the sandy-haired boy pretended to be absorbed in his book. I couldn't help but to give him a scathing look; after all, he _was_ a Prefect. Then again, so was I, and I turned away from him at the reminder, focusing back on the scene before me and making a half-hearted vow to intervene if things escalated.

"How'd the exam go, Snivelly?" said Potter.

"I was watching him, his nose was touching the parchment," said Black viciously, and I winced at his tone. "There'll be great grease marks all over it, they won't be able to read a word."

Several people watching laughed, and Snape's sallow face burned red. Pettigrew sniggered shrilly. Snape was trying to get up, but he was clearly still winded from Black's jinx.

"You – wait," he panted, staring up at the two boys with an expression of purest loathing. "You – wait…"

"Wait for what?" said Black coolly. "What're you going to do, Snivelly, wipe your nose on us? Tell your mean, scary pals to rough us up a bit?"

Snape let out a stream of mixed swearwords and hexes, but with his wand being ten feet away nothing happened.

"Wash out your mouth," said Potter coldly. _"Scourgify!"_

Pink soap bubbles streamed from Snape's mouth at once; the froth was covering his lips, making him gag, choking him —

"Do something!" Florence hissed at me as Snape began thrashing on the ground. "You're a Prefect!"

My eyes were wide, transfixed on what was happening before me, but after a hard nudge from Florence I got to my feet uncertainly. Taking a deep breath and steeling myself, I stepped forward, opening my mouth.

"That's enough — "

"Leave him _alone!"_

Potter and Black looked around. For one wild second, their eyes landed on me, and I felt my resolve waver, but the next they had looked away and were now focused on something over my left shoulder. Potter's free hand jumped to his hair again.

"All right, Evans?" he said, and the tone of his voice was suddenly pleasant, deeper, more mature. I didn't have to hear a name to know who was approaching; only one person had that kind of nauseating effect on Potter, and it definitely wasn't me.

"Leave him alone," Lily Evans repeated vehemently. She was looking at Potter with every sign of great dislike. "What's he done to you?"

"Well," said Potter, appearing to deliberate the point, "it's more the fact that he _exists,_ if you know what I mean…"

Many of the surrounding watchers laughed, Black and Pettigrew included, but Lupin, still apparently intent in his book, did not, and neither did I or my friends or Evans.

"You think you're funny," she said coldly, her eyes flashing, "but you're just an arrogant, bullying toerag, Potter. Leave him _alone."_

"I will if you go out with me, Evans," Potter said quickly, and I internally groaned at his stupidity. "Go on… Go out with me, and I'll never lay a wand on old Snivelly again."

Behind him, Snape had finally managed to catch his breath. He began to inch toward his fallen wand, spitting out soapsuds as he crawled, and I teetered, unsure of what to do. It seemed that nobody else was noticing Snape, too engrossed in Potter's futile attempts to woo Evans, and after casting a nervous glance to the standoff, I slipped my wand into my hand.

"I wouldn't go out with you if it was a choice between you and the giant squid," said Evans haughtily, and I tensed as Snape neared his wand, the crowd letting out low whistles around them.

"Bad luck, Prongs," said Black briskly, turning back to Snape. "OI!"

Snape had made a sudden dive for his wand, directing it straight at Potter as I raised my own; there was a flash of light and a gash appeared on the side of Potter's face, spattering his robes with blood.

 _"Expelliarmus!"_ I shouted, aiming my wand at Snape, and for the second time it flew out of his hand. Before I could do anything else, there was another flash of light, and suddenly Snape was hanging upside down in the air, his robes falling over his head to reveal skinny, pallid legs and a pair of greying underpants, with Potter's wand pointed right at him.

Many people in the crowd watching cheered. Black, Potter, and Pettigrew roared with laughter, and even I had to stifle a snort at the sight.

Evans, whose furious expression had twitched for an instant as though she was going to smile, said, "Let him down!"

"Certainly," Potter said and he jerked his wand upward. Snape fell into a crumpled heap on the ground. Disentangling himself from his robes, he got quickly to his feet, snatching up his wand, but Black directed his own at him with an unfriendly sneer, saying, _"Petrificus Totalus!"_

Snape keeled over, as rigid as a board, and Evans's eyes nearly shot sparks.

"Will you – LEAVE HIM ALONE!" she shouted. She had her own wand out now. Potter and Black eyed it warily.

"Ah, Evans, don't make me hex you," said Potter earnestly.

"Take the curse off him, then!"

Potter sighed deeply, then turned to Snape and muttered the countercurse.

"There you go," he said, as Snape struggled to his feet again, "you're lucky Evans was here, Snivellus — "

"I don't need help from filthy little Mudbloods like her!" Snape spat, and the watching crowd grew still. I sucked in a sharp breath.

Evans merely blinked. "Fine," she said coolly. "I won't bother in future. And I'd wash your pants if I were you, _Snivellus."_

"Apologize to her!" Potter roared at Snape, his wand pointed threateningly at him.

"I don't want _you_ to make him apologize," Evans snapped, rounding on the other boy. "You're as bad as he is!"

"What?" Potter yelped. "I'd _never_ call you a – you-know-what!"

"Messing up your hair because you think it looks cool like you've just got off your broomstick, showing off with that stupid Snitch, walking down corridors and hexing anyone who annoys you just because you can – I'm surprised your broomstick can get off the ground with that fat head on it. You make me _sick."_

She turned on her heel and hurried away.

"Evans!" Potter shouted after her. "Hey, EVANS!"

She didn't look back.

"What is it with her?" he said, trying and failing to look as though this was a throwaway question of no real importance to him.

"Reading between the lines, I'd say she thinks you're a bit conceited, mate," said Black, clapping him on the shoulder, and Potter's jaw tightened.

"Right," he said, now looking furious, "right — "

There was another flash of light, and Snape was once again hanging upside down in the air.

"Who wants to see me take off Snivelly's pants?"

There was another cheer, but I had seen too much.

"That's enough."

I strode forward, flicking my wand and muttering the countercurse. Snape went sprawling in the grass again, but my glare wasn't directed at him.

"And who are you?" Potter sneered at me, obviously angry that I had interrupted his show, but his tantrum needed to be reined in, and since Lupin obviously wasn't going to do anything and Evans had stormed off, that task was left to me.

"Ravenclaw Prefect," I said coldly, tapping the silver badge pinned to my robes, and I saw his hazel eyes, hidden behind two circles of glass, flicker uneasily. "And unless the two of you want to spend the rest of your term trapped in detention, then I suggest you let him go."

I pointed to Snape, who was now trembling with rage, and my next words were aimed at him. "And if you even _twitch_ that wand in this direction, I'll make sure you get the same treatment. Now leave."

After a slight hesitation, in which Snape glared at me poisonously, he stowed away his wand and collected his bag, throwing one last look of loathing over his shoulder at the two boys before stalking back to the castle, disappointed murmurs and jeers to the pale boy erupting amongst the gathered crowd.

I turned back to the two boys in front of me, trying not to let my eyes stray to Black as I eyed Potter with the most authoritative glare I could muster.

"Show's over," I said to the crowd at large. "Go back to whatever you were doing before I start docking points."

There were several groans and complaints at this, but people started to disperse, already dissecting what had happened, and I knew that by dawn tomorrow there'd be a hundred different rumors.

"As for you two," I said, facing the two boys once more, "fifty points from Gryffindor for instigating an attack on a fellow student."

"Fifty points?" Potter echoed incredulously. "You've got to be joking! We're at a tie for the House Cup with Slytherin!"

"Fifty points can be made up easily," I said coolly. "Would you care to make it one hundred?"

Potter blanched. "No," he mumbled, and I nodded briskly.

"Good," I said. "You should get yourself to the hospital wing, Potter. That gash looks deep."

He started, reaching up to touch his cheek where Snape's curse had hit him as if he had forgotten it was there.

"Er, right," he said. He jerked his head at Pettigrew and Lupin, who had conveniently emerged from his book after Snape had gone, and the two boys obediently came over to him. "Let's go, mates."

With a last disgruntled look, Potter set off for the castle, the three boys trailing after him. I studiously avoided looking at Black until I was sure he was far enough away before chancing a glance, only seeing his retreating back. In all honesty though, it was better off this way. After this, I only had to suffer two more years before I could graduate and never see him again, and that shouldn't be too hard.

I wish I'd known back then how laughable of a statement that would turn out to be.

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 **Please review! Any and all feedback is welcomed and encouraged!**

 **xx**


	2. President of the Sirius Black Fan Club

**Disclaimer:** _All rights go to JK Rowling. Anything you don't recognize is mine._

 **Thank you for all the faves/follows, and especially thank you to my first reviewers: SalamanderusRex, AGirlHasAName, HappyTerrier, Epochs, Guest 1, and Guest 2!**

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Chapter Two: President of the Sirius Black Fan Club

Summer was boring. Of course, my holidays were never anything special to begin with, but this one was shaping up to be the worst of them all.

My parents were both members of the Department of Magical Law Enforcement, and upon first hearing it most people think it's fascinating; after all, Aurors and Hit Wizards are what most children aspire to be when they grow up, but the reality is that my parents worked in two of the most boring offices within the department, and that's including the Misuse of Muggle Artifacts Office. My mother was a secretary for the Wizengamot Administration Services and my father was a data collector for the Administrative Registration Department, and since they were both Ministry employees and were dead-set on me following them into the department, my summer had been prescheduled with internships in almost every single office.

At first, I had been annoyed when they had announced it at my homecoming from school; I knew they had been pushing for me to do it, but it was still irritating to come home and learn that they had already filed my paperwork and everything without telling me.

"Think of it as a surprise!" my mother had said. "A wonderful gift for our wonderful daughter!"

"And maybe we'll get you something else when you receive all those 'Outstanding's,'" my father had agreed, giving me a sly wink, and though I still wasn't overly thrilled with the prospect of spending my holiday at the Ministry, I had to smile gratefully.

My parents had lauded the opportunity, playing it up to be much better than what the reality turned out to be. They promised that I'd be doing hands-on work, learning the ins and outs of everything, but so far, my summer had consisted entirely of fetching tea and coffee for my supervisors and running errands for them, or otherwise sitting trapped behind a desk smaller than the ones at Hogwarts, forced to separate quills by feather types and ink by color or some other menial task. It was far from glamorous, to say the least, and I was especially miffed whenever I came home with my parents every evening only to find my brothers doing nothing, as usual.

"Oh, honey, we know your brothers have a lot of potential too," my mother said one night in the beginning of summer, when I had broached the subject of the unfair pressure – again. She was standing at the sink washing dishes after that night's dinner; why she insisted on doing it the Muggle way, I had no idea, but it was a sort of habit she had developed over the years. "But you're so smart, and your father and I know that you're going to go so far! We just want to help you get there."

"But not Sam?" I asked, raising a brow as she handed me a plate to dry off. "Or Simon? Or Nic?"

She had faltered a bit at that. "Well…let's just say your brothers are a lot harder to control, and…"

"They're dumb as rocks?" I suggested, and she gave me a flat look just as a loud _crash_ came from the sitting room.

"Boys!" Mum had yelled. "What's going on in there?"

Nic, my third oldest brother, had slouched in shortly afterwards, one of his hands cupped on his backside.

"Mum," he said, in utmost seriousness, "is it possible to deflate one of your arse cheeks?"

I gave her a look that clearly read _see what I mean?_ But she just ignored me and left me to dry the rest of the dishes, leading Nic out of the room as if he were a fragile child, despite being a year older than me.

I didn't dare try questioning my father about the treatment. I'd been on the receiving end of one of his rants before, about all the "sacrifices" he made for the family and all the "strings" he had to pull just to get me these kinds of opportunities, and I wasn't keen on rehashing the same argument. It was like beating a dead hippogriff with a stick, except the hippogriff was now nothing but a skeleton and my stick had whittled down to a twig the size of my pinky – completely hopeless.

I'm not trying to give the wrong impression here; I appreciate everything my parents do for me, but sometimes…I couldn't help wishing that I had joined my brothers in Gryffindor. Maybe if I didn't have that stigma around me that every Ravenclaw must be brilliant and at the top of the class, I wouldn't be in this situation, being placed on a wobbling pedestal above my brothers and expected to handle it just fine, because that's what Ravenclaws _do._ My parents had both been Gryffindors too, so maybe that was why they idealized me so much – because they had no idea what being a Ravenclaw was truly about. All they knew was the Gryffindor point of view.

Oftentimes I wondered what my life would be like if that was my point of view too.

* * *

As if my boring summer couldn't get any worse, Nic just had to go and ruin it utterly, of course.

School started again in two weeks, and I was half dreading it, half anticipating it. I was going to be in sixth year, and after receiving 'O's' on all my O.W.L exams, that meant I was finally a N.E.W.T student and could drop at least half my course load, since I wouldn't need a lot of my previous electives.

N.E.W.T courses were the least of my troubles, however; another year at Hogwarts meant another year of having to see Sirius Black and his mates, and after the disaster that had happened with Snape at the end of the term, I really wasn't sure what to make of him and the rest of the Marauders anymore.

I wasn't oblivious; I always knew the Marauders had something against Snape, though I had never really cared with the specifics. I'd seen them play pranks on him before and jinx him in the corridors sometimes, but those incidents were harmless compared to what Potter and Black had done to him by the lake. What they did was just downright _cruel._ And even worse, they had _enjoyed_ doing it. Even that much was evident to me. I hadn't interacted with any of them following the confrontation the week before the term was over, though I had seen Potter throw furtive glances to me as I passed him in the corridor, obviously still irked that I had docked points from his House, and Snape positively glared anytime he saw me – apparently being defended by both me and Lily Evans had been too insulting for him, but I hardly cared.

The only thing I noticed was that Black had never once looked at me during that whole week, as if the entire thing never happened. I didn't know whether I had been more confused or disappointed by this, but I had chosen the former option, since I was still adamant in Black not noticing me ever.

It was a quiet Sunday night in the Valentine household, which meant only one thing was happening: family dinner. I dreaded Sunday dinners, but only because it gave my parents an opportunity to grill me about my life in front of my brothers before we all lapsed into an awkward silence, as we were doing now.

I was picking at my chicken breast half-heartedly, not having much of an appetite after my father had wrung my ear about all the internships he had lined up for me next summer, but I looked up when Nic cleared his throat from across me, eyeing our parents hopefully.

Oh, no. He had his kicked-puppy-look about him. He was up to something.

"Mum, Dad," he began, his voice innocent and sweet like an angel. A buff, broad-shouldered angel with a shaved Mohawk, but you get the picture. "I have something to ask."

"Go ahead, sweetie," Mum said, stabbing some green beans onto the end of her fork and not even bothering to glance his way.

"I'm not raising your allowance," Dad said immediately, and Nic smiled ruefully, shaking his head before looking back to him politely.

I nearly spat out my drink; Nic _never_ looked so…mature. It was frightening. Suddenly I wondered if it was a Death Eater using Polyjuice Potion to impersonate my brother. But why would a Death Eater be interested in my family? We were nobodies. Which meant that I wasn't hallucinating; this was still my brother.

My other older brother Simon leaned closer to me on our side of the table, voicing out loud what I was thinking. "Has Nic gone mental?"

I shook my head slowly. "I have no idea."

"Well, while a raise in allowance would be pretty sweet…" Nic said, cocking his eyebrow pointedly, but when Dad looked unimpressed, he continued. "Anyway, y'know how Sheldon was supposed to host the Quidditch kickback at his place this Friday? Well, his mum got ill and she doesn't want all of us there getting sick either, so I was thinking…we could have it here?"

I stared at him across the table, my eyes wide. He was joking. There was no way he could be serious. Have the whole Gryffindor Quidditch team over at our house? No. That would mean…

Ugh. I couldn't even finish the thought.

Dad looked skeptical, but Mum spoke before he could.

"I think that's a great idea!" she said, finally looking up from her dinner and beaming at him. "I'm very impressed that you decided to take the initiative with this, Nic. You're growing up so fast!"

I gave her a disgusted look. All he was doing was hosting a party, and she was acting like he had announced he wanted to take on You-Know-Who single-handedly. He was seventeen, for Godric's sake! He was going into his final year of school! He wasn't five anymore!

"Now wait just a minute." Dad held up a hand, looking to Nic with a dubious expression. "You're saying you want to invite your teammates over Friday night?"

"Just to hang out," Nic said quickly. "It'll be really casual, totally laid back."

Dad eyed him sternly. "No girls? Except Georgina, of course."

Nic shot me a smug grin. "I wouldn't count Georgie as a girl, Pops."

I glared at him. "If I wanted to hang out with a bunch of Neanderthals I'd go back to the prehistoric times," I sniffed disdainfully. "No way am I associating with you and your gorilla mates."

Simon groaned. "That was _such_ a perfect opportunity to use primate instead."

I rolled my eyes.

"Yeah, she'll just be up in her room reading a book and pretending she doesn't exist," Sam snorted from where he was seated next to Nic, and I turned my glare on him. "Not like she ever does anything else."

"Stuff it, _Samwise,"_ I sneered, using the absurd name our mother had given him after one of her favorite fictional characters she had read about in her Muggle Studies class at Hogwarts.

Sam scowled at me.

"Don't deny it. It's what you always do. You're no fun."

"At least I'm not a hobbit."

"I don't even know what that is!"

"Maybe if you'd actually pick up a book for once in your life you'd know."

"Maybe if _you_ got off your high horse every once in a while you could stop making the rest of us so miserable — "

"Sam, Georgina, that's enough," Dad said sharply, and we fell silent immediately, though we still glared at each other from our seats. "Nic, I'm fine with you having your Quidditch mates over, but _only_ them. No one else, and no alcohol, or recreational potions, or — "

"Yeah, yeah, got it, Dad," Nic said, waving him off. "I wasn't planning on us being here the whole night either. I want to show them Dirty's."

I looked up at this, my mouth dropping open. "What?"

Nic looked to me, his green eyes triumphant. "Reconsidering joining us, G?"

My resolve wavered. Dirty's had been my favorite place to go as a kid, even before I had started Hogwarts. It was a dingy little diner and arcade about a twenty-minute walk away from our secluded wizarding village, located in the Muggle town over, and I loved it there. I hadn't been back since the winter holidays because I'd been at the Ministry so much, but did I want to go with Nic and his teammates – particularly James Potter and Sirius Black?

"I-I can't," I said, clearing my throat. "I have to be at the Ministry."

Dad looked round at me. "I thought your final internship ended last week?"

I cringed, not missing the smirks on my brothers' faces. "Er, it did. But I, erm, already have plans…"

"Come off it," Sam scoffed. "We all know that's a load of rubbish."

"I think spending time with your brother and getting to know his teammates would be wonderful, Georgina," Mum said, butting in and offering her unhelpful opinion. "Go with them. You need a night out after working so hard this summer!"

"But — "

"No buts, young lady," Dad said, pointing his fork at me. "Your mother's right; you've been far too busy this summer, and you only have a few weeks left to enjoy the rest of it."

 _And whose fault is that?_ I wanted to retort, but I kept my mouth shut, only glowering at my half-eaten food. I knew that protesting anymore would be useless; my father's word was law, and I could see no other way of getting out of this.

Ugh, this couldn't be happening to me! I was literally being forced into hanging out with my brother, and Potter and Black would be there…

I looked up helplessly to see Nic staring at me, a wicked glint in his eyes that promised humiliation.

 _You're dead,_ he mouthed to me.

I had a feeling that he was going to ensure that.

* * *

Friday snuck up on me faster than I would have liked. The whole day leading up to the party had been horribly tense, as Nic kept looking at me as if he were ready to pulverize me, and by the time five o'clock rolled around and his teammates started showing up, I was a nervous wreck.

I didn't know what Nic was planning, or if he was just doing it to psych me out, but on top of my anxiety of seeing Black and Potter again I was about ready to curl in a ball and bury myself under six tons of dirt. I was hoping the two Gryffindor boys had forgotten all about the incident and me taking points from their House, but if they had kept up their vindictive streak towards Snape for five years, then I was as good as dead.

 _Wait a minute,_ I thought, pausing in the middle of brushing my teeth and staring at my reflection in the mirror. A blonde girl with green eyes stared back at me with a puzzled expression, and I saw her head tilt questioningly. _Why am I so worried about Potter and Black? Yeah, I docked points off them, but they_ deserved _it. What are they going to do, hex_ me?

I had to laugh out loud at the absurdity of the thought, accidentally spraying my mirror with toothpaste. Potter and Black couldn't do anything to me. They knew they were in the wrong. I had just proved them right. Besides, I'd never been afraid of them before, so why start now?

Feeling much better at my mini-revelation, I bounded down the stairs, the doorbell ringing when I reached the bottom landing.

"Georgie, get the door," Nic said, even though he was sitting on the couch flipping through a copy of _Quidditch Today_ and was much closer than I was.

I glared at the back of his head as I went to open the door, revealing one of his teammates, a seventh-year named Sheldon Schaffer.

"Hey, Georgie," he greeted politely as he stepped inside, and I nodded to him. Sheldon and Nic had been friends since their first year, and he knew me pretty well from all the times he had come to visit during the holidays.

"Good holiday, Sheldon?" I asked, and he gave me a slight grin.

"Yeah, not too bad. How was yours? Nic told me about all your internships at the Ministry."

I wrinkled my nose at the mention of the internships. "Well, they kept me busy, that's for sure."

"Oi! Sheldon! Stop talking to my freak of a sister and come look at this new Cleansweep model!"

Sheldon gave me an apologetic look before joining Nic on the couch, and I retreated into the kitchen for some pumpkin juice, waiting for the other guests to arrive. They trickled in over the next hour or so, and I vaguely recognized each one, though for the life of me I couldn't remember what positions they played: Gregor Wood, another seventh-year, and Mikey McKinnon and Charlie Jordan, both fifth-years. There was still no sign of Potter and Black, but I wasn't bothered much about it; they were never exactly the punctual sort, from what I had seen, but at seven o'clock sharp the doorbell rang again, and this time I knew it was them.

"Georgie!" Nic yelled, but I was already at the door.

"Got it," I said, turning the knob and suddenly finding myself face-to-face with the two boys.

Much to my chagrin, my heart skipped a couple beats when I saw Black standing on my doorstep, looking as carelessly handsome as ever. His hair had grown much longer over a few short months, resting lazily just above his collarbones, and if possible, his face had filled out even more, his cheekbones so sharp they looked like they could give me papercuts.

Before I turned myself into a staring fool, I wrenched my gaze away from Black to glance at Potter, who had to be at least two inches taller than the last time I saw him, though his hair was still as messy as ever. I raised my brows when I saw him already staring at me, a frown on his face as if he seemed to be struggling to place my name.

"Hello," I greeted neutrally, standing back some to allow them entry, but they stayed on the doorstep, Potter narrowing his eyes.

"Do I know you?" he demanded, and my brows lifted higher.

"Sort of," I said, and when he still looked stumped, I decided to elaborate. "Ravenclaw Prefect, your year? I took points off you last term for tormenting Snape?"

Potter seemed to wince at the mention of Snape, but I noticed Black's face slip into a scowl.

"That's right," the bespectacled boy said, pointing to me. "You docked fifty points from us and we almost lost the Cup to Slytherin!"

"Wish I could say I was sorry, but I'm really not," I said. "Now are you going to come in or are you going to stand out there for the rest of the night?"

"A bossy Ravenclaw, who would have guessed?" Potter said, slipping inside with Black right behind him. "I didn't know you were Nic's sister, though."

I sighed, shutting the door. "He usually pretends he doesn't have a sister, but yeah, I'm the one."

To my surprise, when I turned around Potter was grinning at me. "What's your name, then, Ravenclaw?"

"Georgie!" Nic shouted from the sitting room. "Stop talking to my mates!"

I grimaced, gesturing to where the rest of the boys were sitting. "That's me."

Potter looked amused. "Does he normally treat you like that?"

"Sometimes it's worse," I said, shrugging. "When I was eight he acted like I was invisible for six months before our parents finally found out."

He laughed. "Sorry, but your brother's a riot. I've always liked him."

"Wish I could relate," I muttered, but he was already walking off, greeting everyone seated in the sitting room.

"Georgie, right?"

I looked up to see Black still standing beside me, and my stomach gave a weird flip-flop when I saw that he was gazing at me with a mildly curious expression. Sweet Merlin. Was Sirius Black acknowledging my existence? Were his eyes really that grey up close?

I mentally slapped myself before my thoughts got any wilder.

"Yeah," I said, tucking a strand of hair behind my ear and trying to smile normally, though it came out more like a grimace. What was wrong with me?

"I'm Sirius." He suddenly stuck out his hand – the same hand I had been admiring – no, _observing_ – that one day in the Great Hall, jerking his head behind us. "That's my mate, James."

"I know," I said quickly, panic flaring inside me when he arched a stupidly, perfectly sculpted brow. "Er, I know, since my brother's on the team with you…"

I trailed off, inwardly groaning when I noticed the corners of his lips curling faintly upwards. Trying to play it off though, I grasped his hand in my own and gave it a firm shake, having a silent freak-out when I realized that they were exactly as I had imagined them to be, calloused and rough and slender, but they were cold instead of warm, his skin cool to my touch. Or maybe I was just feverish because he was touching me… Oh, Godric, what if my hands were sweaty?

I pulled back my hand more quickly than I had intended, feeling my face heat when I realized how awkward that must have been. I didn't dare meet Black's eyes, but I could hear the smirk in his voice.

"Nice meeting you, Georgie," he said, before moving away to join the rest of his teammates, and I immediately darted into the kitchen, my face burning.

What was _wrong_ with me? One touch, and I had been resorted to the rest of the pining girls at Hogwarts who practically squealed if Black so much as glanced their way. I was disgusted with myself. I could practically hear Florence now.

 _"Should I sign you up for the Sirius Black Fan Club, G? I hear they're looking for a new president. You'd be perfect for the job."_

No. I was _not_ going to give Florence the satisfaction of mocking me anymore about Black when we got back to school, and I was _definitely_ not going to be the new president of the Sirius Black Fan Club. This night was my perfect opportunity to shake off whatever lingering fascination I had with him. I had seen his true colors when he had humiliated Snape in front of everyone. I knew his reputation with girls. And I knew that those things about him would never go away.

Sirius Black may have noticed me finally, but I knew better. All I had to do was get through tonight and make sure that it never happened again.

* * *

 **Please review! I love to hear your thoughts!**

 **Next chapter will be the party in its entirety, and we'll see what sort of shenanigans ensue...**

 **xx**


	3. Don't Forget Who the Enemy Is

**Disclaimer:** _All rights go to JK Rowling. Anything you don't recognize is mine._

 **Five months late, but still better than never, right? Right.**

 **Thank you for all the favorites/follows so far, and thank you to my reviewers from last time: Raven Woods 2003, CB Weasley, SalamanderusRex, nctrnl wllflwr, redcap64, Epochs, whysosiriusumbridge, Guest 1, Guest 2, and Guest 3!**

* * *

Chapter Three: Don't Forget Who the Enemy Is

I stayed mostly in the kitchen after my interaction with Black. The whole thing had left me blustering and confused, and I wasn't about to go out there and have Nic take the piss out of me and make it worse.

"What are you doing in here, honey?" Mum asked as she breezed into the kitchen, finding me sitting atop the counter and cradling a cup of tea in my hands. "And no sitting on the counter, young lady. You know the rules."

I slid down to the floor, watching as she retrieved her coin purse from the adjoining laundry room, where we kept all our shoes and coats. She looked nice in her royal blue robes and matching hat, but I was still surprised she was dressed up at all; how she had persuaded Dad to go into London tonight was beyond me. She must've tried extra hard to convince him that Nic wasn't going to burn down the house with all of us still inside.

"Mum, I'm the only girl trapped with a group of blokes," I pointed out, finishing the last of my tea and discarding the bag before beginning to wash the cup in the sink. "It's not that fun for me."

She frowned as she came back into the kitchen. "You know Sheldon, though, right? And the other boys seem very nice – I just talked to them when I passed through. That Sirius Black and James Potter were perfect gentlemen – they even complimented me on my robes! Isn't that darling?"

I made a face, wondering if she would still think they were perfect gentlemen if I told her what they had done to Severus Snape before the term ended, but Dad entered the kitchen then, looking sullen in his navy robes – Mum must have forced him to match her in some way.

"We should leave now, June," he said, checking his pocket watch. "Our reservation's in ten minutes, and there's probably a queue for the Floo there."

"Oh, of course," she said, checking her purse one final time before taking his arm. "Have fun tonight, Georgina dear! We'll see you later."

"Bye Mum, bye Dad," I said, waving.

Dad turned back to me and winked. "Hold down the fort tonight, eh, Georgina? Don't let the lads get too wild."

"Will do." I smiled as they left the kitchen, returning to my perch on the counter when I heard them hassling over the Floo in our living room fireplace.

No sooner had the last _POP!_ sounded than Nic was already moving, and I heard him crank up the volume on the wireless we had, the sudden shrieking and wailing of The Siren's Fury (Nic's atrocious favorite band) echoing throughout the house.

"GEORGIE!" he bellowed over the guitar solo. "BRING THE CRISPS!"

"GET THEM YOURSELF!" I shouted back.

"I'LL TELL MUM AND DAD WHO I SAW YOU SNOGGING AFTER THE RAVENCLAW-HUFFLEPUFF MATCH THIS YEAR!"

I immediately blushed to the roots of my hair, mortified; how did he even know about that? Resigning myself to the blackmail, I got out a bowl and dumped the bag of crisps into it, stalking out with as much dignity as I could muster.

"Here," I said, thrusting the bowl at him so hard several crisps fell into his lap. "Have your stupid crisps."

He gave me a triumphant smirk, picking up one of the crisps and tossing it at me. I tried to turn my head to avoid it, but all I succeeded in doing was getting it stuck in my hair, and I worked furiously to get it out.

"Aw, don't look so put out, G," he said. "It's my job as your older brother to know what you're doing every second of every day."

"I believe you got the definition of an older brother wrong, Nic," I said, succeeding in untangling the crisp from my hair and throwing it so it bounced off his chin. "What you're describing is a stalker."

"Of course you know what that means," he said, his eyes roving over to where Black sat sprawled on our couch, a bottle of butterbeer in his hand. His hands gesticulated wildly as he chatted with Potter and Charlie Jordan, but luckily, he didn't notice Nic and I as my face flushed again.

"Stay out of my life!" I whisper-shouted over the wireless, and he gave me a smug grin.

"Y'know, I'm a little disappointed, sis," he went on, shoving a grotesque amount of crisps in his mouth and crunching them loudly, and I wrinkled my nose. "Out of all the girls in Hogwarts, I never pictured _you_ as the type to pine over Sirius Black."

"I do not _pine,"_ I insisted, but I knew arguing was pointless. Nic would never understand my fascination with Black – it was far too complicated. Even _I_ didn't understand it at times. He wasn't someone I fancied; no, not that at all. He was like a particularly interesting specimen I wished to dissect, in the most innocent way I could put it. I just wanted to know what made someone like that tick, something Nic was far too shallow to grasp.

Instead of replying, he just shoved the bowl back into my arms with a wink and stood up, saying, "Grab your coats, everybody! We're heading out."

I turned to retreat into the kitchen, but Nic grabbed my elbow and crushed me to his side. "You too, little sis. Mum and Dad want us to spend some quality time together, remember?"

"Unfortunately," I grumbled, reluctantly taking my coat as he held it out for me. I was still half-convinced that I was stuck in some horrible nightmare, but I clutched desperately to the light at the end of the tunnel that was Dirty's. At least there it would be easier to hide from him and his mates.

It was about a twenty-minute walk from our house to Dirty's, and I spent the whole time trailing behind the others, which was a feat in itself. They walked at the pace of sloths, which left me shuffling along like an idiot, my hands thrust into my pockets and my mind cycling through every hex I knew that I could use on Nic once we went back to Hogwarts.

I was ignored the entire time too, which I was grateful for, and I couldn't help but breathe a sigh of relief once we reached the grimy, dingy building and they took off without me, making a beeline to the arcade section.

I made my way to the diner section, sliding into a stool at the peeling linoleum counter, where a pretty blonde Muggle girl approached me, wearing the red-and-white striped waitress uniform.

"What can I get you, doll?" she asked me in a thick Irish accent.

"One chocolate malt, please," I said, just as there was a loud swear from behind us.

"Why are Muggle games rubbish?" Gregor Wood demanded of no one in particular. "I wasn't even ready and the sodding blinking thing ate me!"

I turned back to the waitress with a sigh. "Make that two."

I sat peacefully at the counter, content to drink my malt and be away from my brother's boorish company. I couldn't help my eyes from wandering over the arcade floor, however, my traitorous vision always seeking Black. He looked like he was having fun, laughing and cheering every time he beat Potter in a game, but when no one was watching his carefree expression would disappear, like a dark cloud obscuring the sun. It made him look sad, lonely, and I had an overwhelming urge to approach him before I slapped that thought away.

 _He's a git, G,_ I reminded myself. _A handsome, bullying, enigmatic, arrogant git. Stop it._

I was on my second malt, swirling the straw around, when suddenly a body slid onto the stool next to mine, causing me to startle.

"What are you doing over here, Ravenclaw?" Potter asked, mussing up his already messy hair as he grinned at me. "Don't you know how to have fun? Or are you forbidden?"

I scoffed, taking another sip of my malt and letting the chocolate sit on my tongue for a bit, savoring the taste. "Honestly, I think I am. 'Fun' isn't really in my vocabulary."

"Ah, I don't believe that," Potter scoffed. "Enlighten me; what does a Ravenclaw like yourself do for fun?"

I opened my mouth, about to answer him, when suddenly it hit me – what _did_ I do for fun?

I wasn't a prude; I'd been to House parties before, and – as Nic had pointed out so mortifyingly earlier – I had snogged my fair share of boys, but outside of that… My idea of hanging out with my friends involved us studying in the library after dinner, or sitting on the shores of the Black Lake to gossip. We never did anything _spontaneous._ And being home was no different. Under my parents' watchful eyes, I could never do anything like what Nic or Sam or Simon did. If I had asked to host a party at our house, my parents would have laughed in my face before telling me to go finish my Charms essay that was assigned over the holiday. It wasn't _fair._

"Er…" Potter was still looking at me expectantly, grinning like an idiot. "This." I waved my hand to the low-lying, shabby building around us. "Hanging out with my friends…"

I trailed off when his grin widened, and my shoulders slumped.

"All right, fine," I sighed. "I don't know how to have fun. Happy now?"

"Of course not!" he cried. "That's a terrible way to live, Ravenclaw!"

"Yeah, well, there's not much I can do about it," I grumbled into my malt, but he slapped his hand on the counter.

"Then I'm going to change that," he said, and I looked to him as if he had sprouted not just one, but _two_ heads.

"Huh?" I said. "Why?"

"Because everyone deserves to have fun," he said. "Even uptight, straight-laced Ravenclaw geniuses like yourself."

I spluttered, searching for any excuse I could give Potter that would get him away from me and off my back.

"I don't – it's not — " I groaned when he waggled his eyebrows. "Why me, Potter? I'm not even in your House, _and_ I took points off you last year for the whole Snape debacle. Why would you possibly want to help _me?"_

Potter looked sheepish again at the mention of Snape, and he scratched the back of his neck awkwardly.

"Yeah, about that…" he said. "That whole thing was a mistake – even I can admit we went a little too far." I gave him a dry look that clearly read, _Oh really?_ He grimaced. "Sirius doesn't agree, but, well, you saw Evans, and what Sniv – Snape said to her after I goaded him on…"

Ah, so Potter wasn't just doing this out of the good of his heart, then. I figured Evans would be involved in some way.

"Well, good," I said. "That means I won't have to take points off you again, and Evans won't want to destroy you utterly. It's a win-win situation, really."

"Do you think I have a chance?" he blurted out, and I blinked at him, my straw sucking on empty air and filling the uncomfortable silence that suddenly sprouted between us.

"A chance at what?"

"With Evans," he said, and my brows nearly shot to my hairline. Was Potter asking me for _advice?_ "I know I've been a prat most of the time – all the time – " he corrected when he saw my expression – "but do you think I still have a shot after this?"

I chewed the inside of my cheek, weighing my answer. I wanted to say "no;" that would have been the easiest route. But… I'd been around Evans when we were Prefects last year, and I'd even gone on rounds with her a few times. She wasn't as bad as I had imagined her to be, and she was actually quite funny, her humor reminding me of Potter's, almost. And even though she'd gone on dozens of rants to me about James "the-bane-of-her-existence" Potter, I had seen the way she looked at him when he wasn't staring at her. Perhaps it wasn't outright adoration, but it was…thoughtful, curious.

"I think you might," I told him honestly, and his face lit up like a human version of _Lumos._ "You just have to show her the real you, Potter. Not the 'you' you displayed last year with Snape, but the _actual_ you," I said, holding up my hand when he tried to interrupt. "You have the capability to be mature, I know that, so just…be yourself around her. Don't hound her every second of every day; let her come to you once she realizes that you've toned down your buffoonery. And for Merlin's sake, leave Snape alone this year."

Potter swiveled on his stool, the metal squeaking, but he appeared to be lost in thought, as if seriously reflecting on my words. Finally, he nodded and heaved a sigh.

"Thanks, Georgie," he said, and I started at the use of my name. "I'll keep that in mind."

We shared a tentative smile, but I nearly shrieked and toppled off my stool when a heavy hand clapped my shoulder.

"Am I interrupting something?" Nic asked, smirking down at us.

I opened my mouth angrily, but he cut me off before I could speak.

"Billiards tournament," he said to Potter. "You're up against Sheldon. Let's go."

Potter gave me an apologetic look, but I glared at Nic.

"You only have seven people," I pointed out. "How can you have a tournament with equal players?"

Nic shrugged, though I could tell he hadn't thought of that. _Idiot._

"Someone will go twice," he said, but to my surprise, Potter spoke up.

"Georgie can play someone," he said. "Then we'd have eight and it'd be equal."

Nic snorted. "She won't want to play."

He looked to me with a scornful expression, and I felt my teeth grinding together as I scowled. "Don't you, G?"

"Actually, I do want to play," I said, jumping up from my seat and slapping a few crumpled bills on the counter. "I'm in."

Nic looked between Potter and me, as if realizing that he was being outnumbered.

"Fine," he said grudgingly. He suddenly glanced to me with a glint in his eye I didn't like, and I began to regret my decision. "You can play against Sirius."

I froze, gaping, and Nic grinned triumphantly. He had me cornered, and he knew it. Either I could back out and look like a ninny, or I could play against the object of my fascination and make an embarrassment out of myself.

I drew myself up, attempting to hide my panic and eyeing Nic with a steely gaze.

"I'm in," I repeated, and though he frowned, he simply waved us after him as he led the way to the billiards table.

On our way there, Potter leaned down to whisper in my ear, and I nearly jumped when I realized how close he had gotten.

"Good call, Ravenclaw," he said. "Now let's have some fun."

* * *

I'd been watching them play for an hour, and I was bored out of my mind. Really, what was it with boys and sticks? Whether it was a broomstick or a billiards stick, they became rambunctious and overly competitive, and I watched them with a tiny frown on my face, wondering why I had even agreed to this.

I glanced up to see Black standing on the opposite side of the table, cheering on Potter while he played Sheldon. He hadn't glanced my way since I had joined them in circling around the table, but I reminded myself that that was a good thing. I was already on Potter's watch list, apparently, and the last thing I needed was to be on Black's, as well. That was just begging for trouble at that point.

"And that round goes to James," Charlie Jordan announced, scribbling something down on a piece of paper. "Last game is Georgie versus Sirius, and then we can move on to the second set."

I tried not to feel nervous as Sheldon handed me his stick, giving me a small smile and a pat on the shoulder. "Good luck."

I only managed to grimace at him, stepping up to the felt-lined table as Gregor Wood racked the balls. Black came forward after punching Potter for saying something, and he was still chortling when he looked up and locked eyes with me, giving me a slight nod.

I looked away, attempting to swallow past the sudden lump in my throat.

"You can break if you want," Black said to me, and now I felt like an idiot as I shifted my gaze back to his.

"All right," I said quietly, approaching the pyramid of balls and taking a deep breath. I had this. I had been playing at this exact table for years, and I was a decent player. I just might be able to pull this off.

I lined up my shot and broke, watching the balls scatter. The red-striped 11-ball went into the right-side pocket, and I nodded to myself. I usually preferred solids, but I'd take stripes.

I prowled around to the other side of the table, looking for a shot, acutely aware that Black was right beside me. He hadn't moved, even when I bent down next to him, scoping which pocket I wanted to hit the 9-ball into.

Far right side. It was mine.

I hit the ball, and it sank into the hole.

I heard a low whistle behind me, and the unmistakable sound of coins clinking against one another. I didn't dare look at Black, too invested in the game now.

There was a reason all my brothers had gone to Gryffindor, and that was because they were all impulsive. They thought fast on their feet, yes, but they weren't very patient. Me? I was the epitome of patience and control. I often wondered if it was my mind itself that got me put into Ravenclaw, and not just my brains. While I wasn't as quick as my brothers when it came to thinking up plans, I always went through mine methodically and slowly, probing for any flaws and weaknesses and then correcting them. Calculation was my savior, and analysis my redemption. And unfortunately, Black got to witness both during this game.

I tried my luck with the 14-ball, but barely missed. Still, it was enough, and suddenly it was Black's turn. He managed to sink the 2-ball, and I grinned to myself when it edged my own 12-ball nearer to the pocket I had been aiming for. He scratched his next shot, to the groans of the others, and it was my turn again.

We spent the next fifteen minutes stalking around the table, intent and focused. I was only ahead with one less ball than he, but suddenly we were tied when he made his 5-ball into the bottom left pocket, leaving us with two balls each, and the 8-ball.

Black sank only one of his two, but by Rowena's wisdom, I made both of mine. I tried the 8 ball but missed, and Black was up again.

He had to walk past me to get a good shot, and suddenly his lips were at my ear.

"Not bad, Ravenclaw," he murmured, and a shiver went down my spine, though not necessarily in a bad way. "But your streak is over."

He moved away, and the air behind me felt a lot colder as I watched him sink his last ball before turning on the 8. His hair fell into his face as he leaned over the table, his grey eyes intense, and his shirt snagged on the edge of the table, pulling it down past his collarbone and revealing a sliver of olive skin that I forced myself to look away from.

 _Don't get distracted now, G. You're going to win this._

Black missed, and I lined up my last shot. I had a gut feeling the ball was going to go in, and I pulled back, lifting myself onto the balls of my feet to shoot —

Someone let out a loud and painfully fake sneeze just as I shot, and the stick jumped in my hands, my concentration snapped. I watched in anguish as the 8-ball ricocheted off the pocket I had been aiming for, and thirty seconds later, Black had won after retaliating my hit.

I whirled around to see Nic snickering at me, tears in his eyes, and I brandished the billiards stick as I stormed over to him.

"Seriously?" I demanded. "You couldn't let me win one game? How immature _are_ you?"

"Calm down, G," he said, still chuckling, and my irritation flared. "It's not like you were going to win anyway."

"Why, because I'm a girl?" I said. "Going up against one of your Quidditch blokes? Is that why you aren't allowing girls on the team, Nic? Because you think they're inferior to you and your bloody band of berks?"

"Bloody hell, Georgie, it's a joke," he said, rolling his eyes. "You don't have to turn it into one of your feminist rants." He turned to Gregor and Charlie, who both looked extremely awkward with the situation. "Ever since she read this stupid feminist theory book last year she's been insufferable – hasn't shut her mouth about it — "

"Oh, shove this up your arse, Nic!" I thrusted the billiards stick at him and glared. "Maybe you'll find it better than having your own head up there!"

Nic flushed angrily as his mates choked on their own laughter, but I made my way back over to the diner, flinging myself down on a stool.

"Another malt?" the waitress asked me, and I nodded, rubbing my temples.

"I'll have whatever she's having."

I looked up to see Black sidling onto the seat next to me, but I was too annoyed and humiliated to focus on my pounding heart within that moment. The waitress smiled prettily at him, glancing him over with appreciative eyes, and suddenly I felt like punching something.

"That game should have gone to you," he said.

I grunted in response.

"It's fine, Black," I said. "It's just a game."

"True," he said, "but you're competitive, like me, and I know how it feels to have victory snatched away from you at the last second."

The waitress came back with our malts, sparing me from having to answer him as I stuck the straw in my mouth and sucked.

"What is this?" he said, taking a sip. "It's bloody wonderful."

I grinned slightly.

"It's a chocolate malt," I said. "Some kind of Muggle thing. Don't drink it too fast though, or you'll get — "

He grimaced, clutching his head, and I couldn't stop myself from laughing.

"Brain-freeze," I finished, too late.

"Oi! Sirius! We're starting the next round!"

"Be right there!" he called, polishing off the last of his malt in one go and shuddering at the cold.

"Well, I'm off," he said. "Nice chat, Ravenclaw."

I waved as he slid off the stool, but before he left he leaned in again, my stomach flipping uncomfortably.

"Oh, and I haven't forgotten you taking points off us," he said, and my grin instantly vanished. "We'll worry about that when we get back to Hogwarts, though."

He moved off, leaving me alone, and suddenly I didn't feel so good anymore. I hadn't expected him to forget, but the tone of his voice still made me uneasy. Whatever it was Sirius Black was planning, I had a feeling that it was going to make my life a living hell.

* * *

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	4. A Nightmare Dressed as a Daydream

**Disclaimer:** _All rights go to JK Rowling. Anything you don't recognize is mine._

 **Welcome back! Thank you all for bearing with me on the chapter updates. I wish I could get these chapters up sooner, but alas, even in summertime life is still hectic.**

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* * *

Chapter Four: A Nightmare Dressed as a Daydream

Finding a compartment on the Hogwarts Express probably ranked as one of the worst things ever in my book. No matter how early you boarded, it always seemed like every carriage was full, and then you had to deal with the awkwardness of shuffling along down the corridor while everyone who was already seated with their friends laughed at you from their quaint little compartments.

Berks.

I dragged my trunk behind me as I went from carriage to carriage, trapped in the never-ending stream of slow walkers, and I huffed out my breath in annoyance, wishing they would just _bloody hurry up._ I kept an eye out for Hestia, Sera, and Florence, or literally any other Ravenclaw I knew on a first-name basis that I could sit with and end my torture. My trunk was heavy with all the N.E.W.T. books I had brought with me for lessons this year, and my arm was _not_ happy with me anymore.

I was about three-quarters of the way down the train when a compartment door to my right slid open, and I heard my name being called.

"Oi, Ravenclaw! Georgie!"

I looked to see James Potter poking his head out into the corridor, grinning and waving when he caught my attention. I stood uncertainly for a moment, wondering what on earth the Marauder wanted with me. I hadn't seen or spoken to him since that night Nic had his Quidditch party, and considering I had tried to block that night from my memory permanently, I was wary at his easy grin and sparkling eyes.

"What do you want?" I asked, ignoring the dirty looks I was receiving as I held up the traffic along the corridor. I was used to the glares ever since I became a prefect and started taking points from people, and it no longer fazed me. Potter, however…

"Why don't you come sit with us?" he said, sliding the door open further, a clear invitation. "At least for a little bit, until the train clears up, then you can be on your way."

I hesitated, chewing the inside of my cheek. Black would undoubtedly be in the carriage, as well, and I still hadn't forgotten his warning words back at Dirty's. But he wouldn't dare do anything to me. I was a prefect.

Right?

"Fine," I said, sighing. "But _only_ for a few minutes."

Potter grinned, gesturing me into the compartment with a sweep of his hand. "I assure you, we'll be pleasant enough company, Ravenclaw."

He was nice enough to take my trunk for me, stowing it under what I presumed was going to be my seat, grunting with the effort.

"Merlin, Ravenclaw, what d'you have in here?" he said. "Bricks?"

"They're called books, Potter," I said, seating myself next to Lupin. "Though I doubt you've ever touched one in your life."

He shrugged, pushing his square-rimmed spectacles further up his very straight nose. "Can't argue with that."

I fidgeted anxiously in my seat, acutely aware that Black was sitting mere feet away from me on the other side of the compartment with Potter and Pettigrew. I kept my gaze fixed firmly on my knees, praying that I would be able to leave quickly as soon as the corridor was cleared. Even being in the same space as him was setting my nerves on edge.

"So, Georgie." I jumped at the sound of Lupin's voice, and my neck nearly cracked from how fast I snapped my head towards him. He didn't seem to notice my knee-jerk reaction, thankfully, instead giving me a friendly smile. "How was your holiday?"

"Good," I said, grinning nervously back to him. "You?"

He shrugged. "Bit of a bore, honestly. Just helped around in my mum's shop a lot. I heard you had some internships at the Ministry though – I bet that was exciting."

I snorted, some of the tension leaving my shoulders as I realized that this was just Lupin I was talking to. We'd always been good-natured rivals, striving for the number one spot in our class along with Lily Evans, and though my determination to see him squashed was a bit intense, I still got on with him well enough, especially whenever we had prefect rounds together.

"The opposite, really," I said. "All I did was sit there and occasionally fetch the higher-ups some tea or coffee. I think by the end of it one actually knew my name."

Lupin chuckled. "Ah, well, it could be worse."

"Y'know, _my_ holiday was grand, thanks for asking," Potter butted in. "Probably better than _yours_ even, Sirius — "

He leaned over to Black, who shoved him off with a smirk and a glint in his eye that I didn't fully understand. Huh. I wondered what _that_ look was for.

Not that I cared, of course.

"I liked that party at your place, Georgie," Potter said, turning back to me. "And then that one place we went to – what was it? Dusty's?"

"Dirty's," I corrected. I darted my gaze toward Black, seeing if he gave any indication about that night or his warning, but he had gone to staring out the window, his handsome face thoughtful.

Before I could start staring at him, I glanced out into the corridor and saw that it was nearly empty, and I practically jumped to my feet, relief coursing through me.

"Looks like it's time for me to go," I said, pulling my trunk out from underneath the seat. "Nice chat, Gryffindors. I'll see you at school."

I slid open the door, dragging my trunk with me, but stopped when I heard Black say, "Hold up, Ravenclaw."

My heart pounding, I turned to face him, my eyes zeroing in on his predatory smirk and the wand he had just pulled out of his pocket. His grey eyes bored into me mercilessly, and I knew that this was the end. He was about to exact his revenge on me.

His smirk widened, and the other Marauders snickered at the stricken expression on my face.

"Here's for taking points off us last term."

There was a flash of light, and I opened my eyes as they began to roar with laughter. I checked my arms, seeing that my skin was still the same color, and my clothes were still intact. I felt perfectly fine. Then what did he do…?

My question was answered for me when I turned around and saw my reflection in the compartment window, and I couldn't help it. I screamed.

Gone were my lovely blonde locks that I prided myself on every day, and I mean they were _literally_ gone. My hair was _gone._ I was _bald._

The Marauders were still laughing behind me, and I struggled to hold back my tears. Someone was mocking me, saying my name over and over again like a repeating record, echoing in my ears along with their cruel laughter.

"Georgina! Georgina, it's time to wake up! You're going to be late for the train!"

I bolted upright in my bed, my eyes snapping open and my chest heaving as I sucked in a huge breath. That stupid laughter was still bouncing around my skull, and I reached my hands up to my head, nearly sobbing when they tangled in the familiar curls. I still had my hair. Sirius Black hadn't jinxed me bald. Everything was okay.

"Georgina!" my mother yelled from downstairs, and I quickly scrambled out of bed, throwing open my door and peeking my head over the landing.

"I'm up!" I called.

"Get down here and eat your breakfast before it goes cold!" she shouted. "We have an hour before we have to leave for the station!" There was the sudden sound of glass breaking, and I heard her disappear into the dining room, her shriek audible from upstairs: _"Boys, what have I said about throwing the dishes at each other?"_

I freshened myself up quickly, throwing on a light blue sweater and jeans before making my way downstairs, the worst of my nightmare forgotten. Of course, something like that could still happen when I boarded the Hogwarts Express later that morning, but I tried to stay positive. After all, I was going back to Hogwarts, and soon I would be reunited with Florence, Hestia, and Sera, and from there we would tackle sixth year together. I had to believe that this was going to be the best year ever; I could _feel_ it.

"Hey, loser," Sam greeted as I slid into my place at the table.

I shot him a glare. "Hey, yourself, hobbit."

He scowled at me. "For the last time, _I don't know what that is — "_

"Can you two stuff it for five minutes?" Simon whined. "Georgie just got here and I already have a migraine."

"Funny, that's what everyone at school says about her too — " Nic said, though he was quickly silenced when Dad sent him a high-browed glance from above the _Daily Prophet_ he was reading.

"Boys, lay off your sister," he warned. "Just because you're going back to school doesn't mean I can't still ground you — "

"But we're graduated," Sam said, gesturing to himself and Simon. "You can't ground us."

His cheeky grin disappeared at the look Dad gave him. "Or you can. Really, if that's your prerogative — "

"Fresh eggs!" Mum sang as she swept into the room, unwittingly saving my older brother from digging his own grave (something that I wouldn't object to). She set down the steaming bowl of scrambled eggs in the center of the table and took her seat as my brothers swooped in for the food while I sat back and waited for them to finish making a mess.

"So, are you ready to be back at school, Nic, Georgina?" Mum said, taking a sip from her tea.

"Yeah," Nic said around a mouthful of food. I wrinkled my nose at the egg bits that spewed from his mouth when he talked. "Gryffindor's going to win the Quidditch Cup this year, I'm calling it already."

"Only if you can manage to beat Ravenclaw," I pointed out, unable to help myself. "Hestia said their team would be unstoppable if they found a new Seeker as good as Davies was — "

"Rubbish," Nic said. "Gryffindor has them beat, no contest."

"Maybe _you_ should be Ravenclaw's new Seeker, Georgie," Sam mocked. "Though I doubt you'd be able to tell one end of a broom from the other — "

 _"Boys — "_ Dad warned.

My face flushed angrily, and I stood up from the table, pushing my chair back roughly.

"Georgina, dear, sit down and eat," Mum said, but I shook my head, already stalking from the room.

"I'm not hungry," I said. "I'll just go finish packing."

I could hear my brothers snickering behind me, and I swiped away the tears that stung my eyes. _Why_ were they always such berks to me? What have I ever done to them, besides break the Gryffindor streak by being put into Ravenclaw? They couldn't hate me over something as stupid as House rivalry. Then again, Gryffindors had always been known for their judgmental attitudes, and they did hate the Slytherins no matter what. I wouldn't be surprised if I was seen as just as bad as the snakes in their eyes.

I sighed, beginning to pack my trunk. I couldn't wait to be back at Hogwarts.

* * *

Getting to King's Cross was fairly uneventful. Nic, Sam, Simon, and Mum Apparated onto the platform, while I had to Side-Along with Dad, seeing as I was the only one who didn't know how to yet. Years of Side-Along had already trained me to somewhat get used to the compressing feeling of Apparition, but that still didn't stop me from almost throwing up when we hit the platform. Fortunately, the nausea subsided quickly; I was _not_ going to embarrass myself our first day back.

Of course, Nic still tripped me as I wheeled my trolley toward the train, causing me to fall and bang up my knees, and I hissed at the stinging pain as he chortled and pressed on, no doubt trying to find a compartment full of his dumb mates.

I clambered back to my feet, rubbing my right knee – which had taken the brunt of the damage – and nearly collided my trolley with someone else's.

"Whoa!" they said, maneuvering their trolley out of the way just in time, and I nearly groaned aloud. How was my luck possibly this rotten?

"I'm sorry — " I said, before choking on my sentence when I met the amused silver gaze of none other than Sirius Black.

"You should be more careful, Ravenclaw," he said, and the smirk on his face told me he wasn't just talking about my clumsiness. I swear I nearly whimpered.

"Oi, Pads, c'mon! We found a compartment!"

I saw Potter disappear back onto the train, and I assumed 'Pads' was some sort of weird nickname for Black as he turned back to me, raising a haughty brow.

"See you at Hogwarts," he said, and with a last wink he had vanished, leaving me a blushing, flustered mess.

 _Sweet Rowena, get a grip on yourself!_ I shouted in my head. I was Georgie Valentine. Sirius Black did not scare me. I was Georgie Valentine. Sirius Black did not scare me…

I repeated the mantra in my head as I traveled down the length of the train, desperately searching for a glimpse of my friends. I had nearly given up hope until I heard three shrill voices calling, "Georgie! Georgie, over here!"

Sighing with relief, I approached the compartment they were waving frantically out of, and Florence opened the door, allowing me to haul my things inside and store them in the upper racks. No sooner had I completed this than the brunette witch had squashed me into a tight hug, squealing.

"I can't believe I haven't seen you in three months!" she said. "I think that's the longest we've _ever_ been apart!"

"I know, Flo," I said. "The Ministry was nutters though; I barely got any time to myself as it was!"

"How was that, by the way?" Hestia said, smiling and giving me a much gentler hug than Florence had. "I'm sure it must've been extremely busy, what with the war and all…"

I shrugged, ignoring the ominous question she had left unspoken. It was our first day back together after months apart, and I didn't want to talk about depressing things. "If it was, I didn't notice it; they practically kept me in a basement anyway."

I took my seat as Sera finished kissing both of my cheeks wordlessly, though her grip on my arm had been tighter than usual. I wondered what was up with her.

"Well, who cares?" Florence said, stretching out next to me. "The internships are done, summer is over – sixth year awaits!"

"Yes, and all those lovely NEWTs," Hestia added, wrinkling her nose.

"How many are you taking, Hess?" I asked.

"Only five, thank Merlin," she said. "Defense, Charms, Potions, Herbology, and Transfiguration."

"Everything you'll need to be an Auror, right?" Florence said, and the other girl nodded.

"That, or something similar," she said. "The Auror program is hard to get into; if I don't make it through, they'll probably just make me a minor Peacekeeper or something."

"You'll make it," Florence said firmly, and Hestia smiled before turning to me.

"What about you, Georgie? How many NEWTs are you taking?"

"All of them, I'm sure," Florence said, grinning.

I shrugged, listing the classes I would be taking that year. "Charms, Defense, Transfiguration, Herbology, Potions, Astronomy, Arithmancy, Ancient Runes, and Muggle Studies."

"So, all the N.E.W.T. classes they offer, minus two," Florence corrected herself, and I nodded. "Merlin, Georgie, I dunno how you're gonna survive."

"You mean you got O's in all those exams?" Hestia said, impressed. "Damn. I barely scraped an E on our Charms O.W.L.; I practically had to beg Flitwick via post to accept me into his class."

"And what do you plan on doing with all those NEWTs?" Sera asked, speaking up for the first time since I had boarded. Her blue eyes raked me over critically, and I frowned at her analytical expression. Sera was typically wound tight, but something about her scrutiny was throwing me off.

"Dunno," I said, shrugging. "That's why I'm taking so many, just in case I change my mind later on."

I had had the career talk with Professor Flitwick last term, of course, and with my parents every year. Though I always vaguely answered with something to do in the Department of Magical Law Enforcement, like my parents wanted, the truth was that I simply had no idea what I wanted to do as an adult. Nothing sounded appealing, so my only plan at this point was to just keep my options open, something I wouldn't dare tell my parents or else face endless lecture upon lecture about my future.

Sera nodded before looking back out the window as the train departed from the station, heading for Hogwarts. Deciding to ignore her odd behavior for now, I tugged one of the books I would have to read for Muggle Studies out of my trunk, tucking my legs beneath me and preparing for the long journey.

At about three o'clock I stirred myself out of a comfortable doze, sitting up and suddenly wishing I could skip the prefects' meeting I had to go to, far too tired to go deal with the other prefects from the other Houses and years.

"I'll be back," I said to the napping compartment, only receiving sleepy nods in reply as I made my way to the front of the train. I was five minutes early to the prefects' carriage, and I stepped inside, taking a seat near the front and fighting the urge to curl up right there and go back to sleep. Over the course of the next few minutes, all the other prefects trickled in, the Ravenclaw boy in my year, Thomas Boot, taking the seat next to me.

"Georgie," he greeted curtly, nodding his chin at me.

"Thomas," I replied cordially, fighting the urge to roll my eyes. Thomas Boot was a severely serious and monotonous boy, with wiry brown hair and a very round face. Everyone in Ravenclaw, and even some kids from the other Houses referred to him as 'Thomas Boot-Licker,' since he was perpetually stuck-up and quite an obnoxious teacher's pet. Luckily, he couldn't speak to me further, as just then the Head Boy and Girl arrived, and the meeting commenced.

It was the same as last year's, thankfully, which meant I could tune out everything and stare out the window, only pretending to listen. Thomas was taking notes next to me, the weirdo, and the harsh scratching of his quill was the only thing keeping me awake through the duration of it. Finally, after what felt like centuries, we were allowed to grab some snacks and leave, and I immediately pounced on some mini-cupcakes with blue frosting.

"Naturally you would choose blue," Remus Lupin said, coming up behind me at the table and selecting a cupcake himself, this one with red frosting.

"Gotta keep up the pretense of House rivalry," I said, flashing back to my conversation with my brothers this morning and scowling. Lupin watched in amusement as I licked my frosting with much more intensity than I had intended. "What's up, Lupin? Wanna compare O.W.L. results?"

He grinned at me. "You read my mind, Valentine."

"Let's hear it, then," I said, waving my hand as I began to demolish the rest of the cupcake.

"O's in everything," he said, a bit of a boast to his otherwise languid tone. "And I'm taking eight N.E.W.T. classes this year."

I nodded. "Interesting. I got all O's as well, but I'm taking nine NEWTs."

Lupin chuckled, shaking his head and taking a large bite out of his cupcake, frosting and all. I wrinkled my nose. _So uncivilized._ "You're ambitious, Valentine, I'll give you that."

I beamed at him. "High praise coming from you, Lupin. I'll take it."

He shrugged, grabbing another red cupcake before gesturing me to follow him out of the carriage. We made our way back down the train, keeping up small talk as we went, before he stopped outside a compartment about midway down.

"I'm in here," he said. "You can sit with us for a bit if you want."

I kept my expression neutral at the word 'us,' even though my heart skipped a beat at the realization that Black would be in there – a good or a bad skip, I couldn't tell you.

"No, thanks," I said. "I should probably be getting back — " I stopped dead when I glanced over Lupin's shoulder (which was a feat in itself, considering how freakishly tall he was) and saw Nic sitting in the compartment with the rest of the Marauders, a very familiar book in his hands. He was rifling through the pages, no doubt laughing with the others at the annotations I had already written in there, and suddenly my blood was boiling. I had had _enough_ with him today.

Pushing past Lupin, I stomped into the compartment, glaring acidly as my idiot brother glanced up from the book, his face splitting into a shit-eating grin when he saw me.

"Little sis!" he said. "So glad you could join us — "

 _"Silencio!"_ I snapped, pulling out my wand and flicking it so suddenly my brother was mute. He gaped at me, appalled, and clutched his throat when he attempted to swear at me, but no sound came out. _"Accio_ book!"

My book, _The Catcher in the Rye,_ flew out of his hands and I caught if deftly, clutching it to my chest as I glared at Nic.

"Leave me alone," I warned him. "Or I'll make sure that spell sticks permanently."

I was suddenly very aware that the entire compartment was staring at me, and I lowered my wand, careful to keep my gaze from straying to Black. The memory of my nightmare about him hexing me came to the forefront of my mind once more, and before anyone could say anything, I had already ducked out of the compartment and began striding back to where my friends were, leaving them all behind.

* * *

I was exhausted by the time the Start-of-Term Feast was over, and the prospect of just sleeping in the Great Hall was becoming more appealing with every step we took back to Ravenclaw Tower. To my disgruntlement, we kept even pace with some of the Gryffindors as they made their way to their tower at the opposite end of the castle, and since we hadn't come to the junction yet, we were forced to walk side-by-side together.

Hestia began telling us something as we made our way up the endless staircases, but my attention was diverted when a heavy arm swung itself around my shoulders, and I started when I found James Potter grinning down at me, the other Marauders only a few steps behind. I darted my gaze towards Black, wondering if the moment had finally come, but before I could catch a glimpse of him Potter was already speaking.

"You're feisty for a Ravenclaw," he declared, and I shot him a confused look. "On the train? When you hexed your own brother? I gotta hand it to you, Ravenclaw – the look on his face was priceless. Are you sure you don't know how to have fun?"

"I, er…" My voice faltered, simply because I had no idea what to say. I'd spoken to Potter three times in my entire life, and all of those times had taken place over a couple short months. I was hopelessly confused.

"I think I can help you, Ravenclaw," he continued, as if I hadn't just stuttered stupidly for about ten seconds. "You have the makings of a fine, rebellious soul; troublemaking is in your veins, dear. And I think you could benefit greatly from my – _our_ – expertise. So, what do ya say? Will you accept your position under the Marauders' wing?"

I looked back over my shoulder, catching Lupin's eye and internally screaming _Help me!_ In turn, he merely shook his head helplessly, mouthing _Just go with it._

Some Gryffindor. Weren't they supposed to be valiant and heroic and all that? Bloody useless, is what they were.

"Think on it," Potter said, as the Ravenclaws and Gryffindors began to split up, heading for their separate towers. "We'll be in touch, Ravenclaw."

And with that, they were off, leaving me at the top of the staircase as students streamed around me, more confused than I had ever been in my life. I thought for sure Potter would've hated my guts after the whole Snape debacle, but now here he was, offering to be my mentor – for what, exactly, I had no clue, but whatever it was, it couldn't be good. I just had to politely refuse his offer, and then drop out of school and move to America or something. Perfect. That sounded like a solid plan.

Shaking my head, I followed the rest of the Ravenclaws back to our common room, completely, blissfully oblivious to the fact that my entire world was about to be turned upside down.

* * *

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	5. Forgiven But Never Forgotten

**Disclaimer:** _All rights go to JK Rowling. Anything you don't recognize is mine._

 **Welcome back! Thank you all for sticking with this story!**

 **Thank you for all the new favorites/follows, and thank you to my reviewers from last time, and for everyone who reached out over the last couple of months: heroherondaletotherescue, Raven Woods 2003, Rohirrim Girl 2187, seclue, Comidia Del Arte, wickedgrl123, baby blue eyes10, mazeygrace18, Loves to read books, tennismaniac19, Guest 1, and Guest 2!**

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Chapter Five: Forgiven But Never Forgotten

The morning of our first day back at Hogwarts saw Hestia and I waiting in the corridor outside of Professor Slughorn's classroom with a handful of students our age from other Houses, disgruntled and exhausted from the events of the night before. It was tradition for all the Houses to have a party in their common rooms our first night back at school, though unfortunately most of those nights fell before our first lessons of the term. And from what I had seen over the years, showing up hungover to your first lesson – especially N.E.W.T. Potions, like today – was not a pleasant experience.

"I think I'm gonna be sick," Hestia moaned from beside me, leaning back against the wall of the dungeon corridor. She _did_ look pale, I noticed, and I edged away from her slightly.

"That's what you get for pounding shots of firewhiskey all night," I retorted lightly, and she gave me a dark glare from beneath her black fringe.

"Why do _you_ look like you're not on the verge of death like the rest of us?" she said, gesturing to the silent and sickly-looking students around us. Her eyes narrowed. "Did you even drink last night?"

"You know I don't drink," I said, suddenly feeling very awkward when she nodded, frowning.

"Oh, yeah, I forgot about that." She shrugged, brushing the moment off easily and grinning at me. "Smart choice, though. At least we know you won't be the one who pukes first today."

I chuckled. "You're right about that."

We lapsed back into silence, and I checked my watch, seeing that it was five minutes to nine. Professor Slughorn, for all his eccentricities, was usually a punctual wizard, and I frowned at the classroom door, wondering what was taking him so long.

Raucous laughter suddenly echoed down the dungeon corridor, the sound reverberating loudly in the narrow space, and I saw many of the students nursing migraines from their night of partying flinch and cover their ears at the sound. Even I winced at the loudness of it, Hestia groaning beside me, but I wasn't surprised when the Marauders appeared a few moments later, still laughing wildly at whatever joke had been made.

I caught Potter's eye before I could look away, and the messy-haired boy shot me a wink from the opposite wall, grinning wickedly. I rolled my eyes, returning my attention to the door, but Hestia grabbed my elbow, yanking me around to face her with a slack jaw.

"Did James Potter just _wink_ at you?" she demanded, half-exasperated, half-awed.

"No," I said automatically, to her immediate disbelief. "Bloke probably just had a muscle spasm or something. It's not uncommon."

"Come off it," she said dubiously. "I have eyes, you know."

"Shockingly, so do I," I said, and she rolled said eyes.

"Why would he wink at you?" she asked, and I sighed, knowing that she wouldn't let the topic go unless I gave her a satisfiable answer. Hestia was the most persistent person I knew, and though it was an admirable quality, I really disliked her for it at times – like now. "I don't think I've ever seen you two interact – well, aside from the Snape thing last term…"

"That _was_ our only interaction," I said. "Or at least, I hoped it would be, until Nic invited his stupid Gryffindor teammates over to our place this summer." I shook my head. "Now he has some twisted idea in his head that I'm a boring Ravenclaw who needs to learn how to have fun and cause trouble, and he's offered to be my mentor, or whatever."

Hestia burst into laughter, and the migraine-ridden students gave her poisonous looks. She drew the attention of the Marauders too, and I grimaced when their gazes flicked in our direction, though I ignored them.

"I'm sorry, but that's hilarious, G," she said, putting a hand over her mouth to stifle her giggles. "I can't believe Potter would do such a thing!"

"He's an annoying git, of course he can," I grumbled, wishing this conversation would end already.

It seemed someone had been nice enough to answer my prayers that day, however, for just then Professor Slughorn swung open the door to the classroom, his round belly protruding out at us as he proclaimed, "Come in, come in! I have a treat for you all today!"

The students shuffled into the classroom, Slughorn greeting them as they filed in with varying levels of enthusiasm. He positively beamed when he saw me, saying in that booming voice of his, "Miss Valentine, wonderful to see you! I was beyond thrilled when Professor Dumbledore informed me one of my star pupils was returning to my N.E.W.T. class!"

"It's good to be back, sir," I said, giving him a winning smile. "I look forward to what your genius mind has cooked up for us this year."

Slughorn swelled with pride at my statement, and I grinned to myself. Flattery went a long way, I had learned, and I wasn't afraid to use it to my advantage when I could. After all, brains weren't the only things Ravenclaws possessed, though that was what everyone liked to think.

"Have a seat, Miss Valentine, and you'll soon find out," he said, giving me a secretive wink, and I smiled again, joining Hestia at her seat while she shook her head at me in mock disgust.

"You're a real teacher's pet, you know that?" she said, and I grinned.

"I do," I said cheekily, but my grin slipped a little when I heard Slughorn now gushing over Lupin and Lily Evans, his two favorite Gryffindors. "Too bad I'm not anyone's favorite, though."

Hestia shrugged. "They're Gryffindors, they always get the spotlight."

I thought of my brothers, and how Mum and Dad always doted on them and how they had glided their way through school without even working hard, and I scowled. Hestia was right, of course, but that didn't mean I had to like it.

"Now then, let's get settled in!" Slughorn said, closing the door behind him and waddling his way to the front of the room, where four cauldrons were set up. They filled the classroom with humid vapors and contrasting smells, and Hestia and I shared a glance, wondering what was in the cauldrons. Others were wondering too, it seemed, for the room now abounded with whispers and mutters as Slughorn faced us all.

"Scales out, everyone, and potion kits, and don't forget your copies of _Advanced Potion-Making,"_ he said, waiting for a few moments as everyone complied. Once the flurry of activity had settled, he spoke again.

"What I have prepared for you today are potions that I expect you to be able to make by the end of your N.E.W.T. year." He gestured with a wide hand to the simmering cauldrons. "Can anyone tell me what potions I have brewed up here?"

There was a moment of silence as everyone studied the contents of the cauldrons, sizing them up. I eyed the one nearest Hestia and I, taking it in: it was colorless, like clear water, and when I sniffed, concentrating, it was odorless. There was only one thing it could be, and I raised my hand smugly.

Slughorn beamed, pointing to me. "Have one of 'em figured out, Miss Valentine?"

"The first cauldron is Veritaserum, Professor," I said. "It's colorless and odorless, and when drunken, it forces the drinker to tell the truth."

"Excellent, five points to Ravenclaw!" Slughorn said jovially, and Hestia gave me a high-five under the table. "Now, who can tell me this one… Yes, Miss Evans?"

He had indicated a slow-bubbling, mud-like substance in the next cauldron, and Evans's hand was raised so high in the air I let the poor girl have her opportunity.

"Polyjuice Potion, sir," she said. "If you mix it with the hair from another person, the potions gives you the ability to transform into that person temporarily."

"Quite right, Miss Evans! Five points to Gryffindor!"

He moved over to the next potion, a small black cauldron with the potion within splashing merrily about; it was the color of molten gold, and large drops were leaping like goldfish above the surface, though not a particle had spilled.

"A most curious little potion, this one is," Slughorn said. "Who can—? Go ahead, Mr. Lupin."

Lupin's hand had shot into the air excitedly upon the dawning realization of what the potion was, and I looked to him, disgruntled; I had yet to place the potion, though I was certain I had heard of it before.

"Felix Felicis," Lupin said reverently. "Or 'Liquid Luck.' It gives the drinker luck!"

"Take another five points for Gryffindor," Slughorn said, nodding encouragingly. "And finally, our last one…"

My hand shot into the air before anyone else's. The mother-of-pearl sheen, the steam rising in characteristic spirals… I had this one in the bag.

Slughorn opened his mouth to call on me, but before he could get a word out, a voice called from the back, "Amortentia."

I whirled around, my eyes widening in shock before narrowing when I saw Sirius Black lounging in his seat, looking so carelessly handsome my gut clenched, but my teeth ground together in annoyance when he shot me an arrogant smirk from the back of the room.

"Well done, Mr. Black," Slughorn said, bemused. "And can you tell me what it does?"

"It's the most powerful love potion in the world," he said easily, as if he himself had been the one to create it. "It smells different to everyone, based on what attracts them. For example, I smell leather, chrome pipes, and fuel."

He grinned like he had just told the best joke in the world, and the Marauders snickered around him, putting their heads down when Slughorn frowned, perplexed.

"Right you are, Mr. Black," he said. "Though it should be noted that Amortentia doesn't really create _love,_ of course. It is impossible to manufacture or imitate love. No, this will simply cause a powerful infatuation or obsession."

"Not like Padfoot needs any help in that department," I heard Potter snigger from the back, and I rolled my eyes at their hushed laughter, going back to glowering at my Potions book.

"Five more points to Gryffindor for Mr. Black's answer – yes, Mr. Black?" Slughorn looked faintly annoyed when Black raised his hand again, but the dark-haired boy merely grinned back.

"I'd like to give my points to someone else, sir," he said, and I froze when he nodded in my direction. "Georgie here had her hand up before I so rudely shouted out the answer, so I want her to take the points."

He winked at me, and I flushed bright red, turning back to Slughorn hastily and ignoring the many stares I could now feel boring into me.

"Er, very well," Slughorn said. "The five points go to Miss Valentine and Ravenclaw, then. Now, moving along with today's lesson…"

"What the bloody hell is going on?" Hestia whispered as soon as Slughorn's back was turned, and I shrugged helplessly, wishing I had an answer.

"I dunno," I said, suddenly wishing they would just leave me alone. Potter and Black, for whatever reason, had seemed to take an interest in me after all that had happened these last few months, and it was beginning to worry me. I had always daydreamed about what it would be like for them to notice me, but now I realized that the reality was actually a nightmare.

This had to be about me taking points off them after the Snape debacle, I thought bitterly. This attention was just their way of giving me hell for almost making them lose the House Cup. I shook my head angrily; they were gits, arrogant, bullying gits, and nothing would ever change that. I should've never gotten involved with them, never should've stepped up between them and Snape. They were going to make my life a living hell from now on.

"Since this is an advanced and challenging class and it is your first day, I will assign you to work in four groups, each with four students, to begin work on one of the potions I have made up here," Slughorn announced. "Let's see…

"Miss Evans, Miss Fortescue, Mr. Lupin, and Mr. Pettigrew will work together on Felix Felicis; Mr. Snape, Mr. Avery, Miss Bulstrode, and Mr. Nott will have Polyjuice Potion; Mr. Fletchley, Miss Dawson, Miss Clairfough, and Miss Nguyen will work on Veritaserum; and Miss Valentine, Miss Jones, Mr. Potter, and Mr. Black will get to work on Amortentia."

Slughorn waggled his eyebrows, and Hestia and I shared a horrified glance. He was making us work on a love potion with _Black_ and _Potter?_

"Find out where you'll be sitting and snap to work!" he said cheerfully. "You have two hours to brew, starting…now!"

There was a rush of scraping chairs and flitting students as they found their partners and began to collect supplies from the storeroom, and after a laborious sigh, I stood from my seat, ignoring the intense weight of dread in my gut.

"C'mon," I said heavily. "Maybe they'll just sit back and let us do the work."

Hestia didn't seem too enthused, but she followed me to the back of the room anyway, where Potter and Black were sitting and looking smug while we took the seats across from theirs.

"Don't think you can escape me so easily, Ravenclaw," Potter said, grinning mischievously, and I gave him a blank look, opting to ignore him and begin setting out my supplies.

"Are you giving me the silent treatment now, Ravenclaw?" he asked. "You wound me, truly – we became such good friends this summer—"

"We are not friends, Potter," I snapped, looking up and meeting his hazel eyes, which were narrowed slightly in annoyance now. "We have had a total of four conversations, which would make us acquaintances more than anything, but considering I don't want to be acquainted with you anyway, that makes us nothing. Now, if you'd please begin heating the cauldron while I collect our ingredients, that would be wonderful."

And with that, I stood from my seat and marched to the storeroom, fuming. I sifted through the shelves and contents, searching for what I needed and ignoring the seedling of guilt that was burying itself in my chest.

I rarely ever snapped at someone I didn't know; my brothers were fair game, considering all the things they had done to me over the years, but I always tried to be reserved and calm, even kind. But the way Potter was acting, as if he thought we were chummy with each other after what had happened with Snape, as if I hadn't been nobody to him before now, was driving me mad. The last thing I needed in my life was trouble, and unfortunately, that was all he and his friends were – trouble.

"Poor James looked almost ready to cry when you yelled at him."

I fumbled with the vial I had been examining, whirling around to see Sirius Black behind me, smirking, though I could tell he was tense just by the way he was standing. He usually had a relaxed sort of grace about him, but now his arms were crossed defensively, and his stance was dominating.

 _Ah, so he was territorial of his friends. Understandable._

"I didn't yell at him," I said, averting my eyes and returning to my search. "But everything I said was right: we aren't friends."

"And what if he wanted to be?" he said, and I glanced at him sideways, frowning. "Your friend, that is."

"Then I'd hex him before he could get back at me for taking points off you last term," I said. "That's all this is, isn't it? Some ploy to get me off my guard, so you can get your revenge on me for what I did, for what I almost cost you?"

"You seriously think this is about you taking points off us?"

I turned at his incredulous tone, my brows furrowing when he looked at me as if I had just announced plans to elope with one of Professor Kettleburn's hippogriffs.

"What else could it be about?" I demanded. "You even told me yourself this summer that you hadn't forgotten about it!"

"It's called a joke, Ravenclaw," he said, rolling his grey eyes. "Learn how to take one."

I stared at him, uncomprehending. "What?"

He sighed, looking irritated. "Look, any other year, we would have gotten you back for what you did," he said. "And originally, we were going to – until Nic's party."

I listened in silence, feeling as if everything I had ever known was being chucked out the window. What was happening?

"James told me afterward that you and he had talked," he continued. "He said that you gave him some solid advice regarding Evans, which he is now trying to abide by, and he felt like he owed you one. Him trying to be your friend is him saying thank-you for helping him out."

Holy Rowena Ravenclaw. James Potter had actually taken my advice? He had _listened_ to me? And now he wanted to be my _friend_ because of it?

I thought back to last night, when he had approached me and offered to be my mentor. Had that been him reaching out in some weird Marauder-way? Was he serious about wanting to be my friend?

"Well, bugger," I said, letting out a sigh and rubbing my forehead. "Now I sound like a right berk."

Black grinned, and my stomach swooped at the sight, my nerves returning now that my mind-blowing revelations had stopped and I realized I was standing alone in the storeroom with him.

"James is an easy bloke," he said, surprising me with his own advice. "Apologize, and move on from it. He'll forgive you."

"And you?" I asked, almost nervously. He raised a perfectly arched brow at me. "Have you forgiven me for taking points off you?"

"I've forgiven you," he said, but before I could relax he gave me a wolfish grin that immediately put me on-edge again. "But I haven't forgotten."

He reached out, grabbing a lock of my hair and spinning it around his finger, and I gulped. His grey eyes locked with mine, and I swore my knees shook a little.

"You'll learn, Ravenclaw," he promised – because that was what Sirius Black did, I realized in that moment. He didn't make grand statements or declarations – he made promises, and those were infinitely worse. "My revenge is far sweeter, and takes far longer to satisfy."

He smirked, and my stomach twisted in a way that had nothing to do with nerves, before he released my hair and exited the storeroom, leaving me alone with my spinning thoughts.

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 **Please review! I'd love to know your thoughts!**

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	6. Georgie Valentine, Secret Marauder

**Disclaimer:** _All rights go to JK Rowling. Anything you don't recognize is mine._

 **Welcome back! With the semester coming to a close this week, I will hopefully have a lot more time to write on my hands, but thank you all for being patient!**

 **And thank you for all the new favorites/follows, and especially to my reviewers from last time: heroherondaletotherescue, StarDust1987, Raven Woods 2003, blackashrose1313, FandomsUnited99, tennismaniac19, Salma2, quidditchlover, Silver Hunter (Guest), Nat (Guest), Guest 1, Guest 2, Guest 3, and Guest 4!**

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Chapter Six: Georgie Valentine, Secret Marauder

 _3 September 1976_

 _It's the third day of school and I have resorted to writing in this tacky journal that my darling mother somehow managed to sneak into my trunk before I left. I'd been trying to get rid of it all summer, but the woman must have Charmed it to return every time I chucked it in the bin, the loon._

 _Why am I writing in this, you may ask? Because James Potter has driven me to the point of insanity, and I barely know the bloke. I mean, the first time we ever spoke was because I was taking points off him for torturing Severus Snape! And now he wants to be friends. Like, actual friends. Unless Black was lying to me and pulling some prank (which I wouldn't put past him). But James Potter, wanting to be friends with a boring Ravenclaw like me? Next thing I know he'll be trying to befriend the giant squid, too._

 _What am I going to do? I want my life to stay normal, and allowing James Potter (and, let's face it, the rest of the Marauders – including Sirius Black – by default, as well) into it is going to wreck it completely. I'm not one of them, no matter what Potter thinks, and I never want to be. But I don't want to be rude to him again. Do I just ignore him? Tell him I'm not interested in being his friend?_

 _Okay, Georgie, slow down. No one said you had to be friends with him. Just apologize for yesterday, and walk away. That's it. That's all you have to do. And in a few weeks, he and Black will forget all about you and go back to living their normal lives and not knowing that you exist. Perfect._

I sighed, setting down my quill and snapping the journal shut. It was small, thank Merlin, but decorated with a lurid pink cover and stars that were spelled to twinkle so brightly I risked blinding everyone in a room were I to whip it out unexpectedly. Squinting, I threw the thing back into my trunk and placed a pile of neatly folded clothes over it, shutting the heavy lid and sitting down.

It was still early in the morning, the light outside our dormitory window rosy and flushed. Hestia was in the washroom showering, and Sera had already gone down to breakfast, citing some vague reason for ditching us so early. Come to think of it, I'd hardly seen her at all since we'd been back from holiday, but I figured once the chaos of the first week died down she would be back. Florence was still sleeping, and I was surprised my journal hadn't woken her up, considering it had been like shining a spotlight in the small room.

I was already dressed in my uniform and ready to start the day. I had been cursed as an early riser when I was young, and I had never grown out of it, no matter how tired I was or how late I had gone to sleep the night before. I tugged on the end of my ponytail, chewing my lower lip and waiting on my friends so we could go down to breakfast, my thoughts whirling around inside my head.

I had lain awake half the night tossing and turning, wondering what I was going to do about my current predicament. The occasional times I did doze off, I dreamed about Sirius Black leaning close to me and twirling my hair, whispering sweet promises about revenge. I had awoken from those with my heart pounding and my chest flushed, an odd, pulsating heat covering my body, and gone right back to fretting.

Why would James Potter want to be my friend? Black had said it was because I had given him advice about how to approach Lily Evans, but was that really it? And was giving some basic advice really worthy of a friendship of Potter? I had watched people for years attempting to be his friend, but he always stuck exclusively with the Marauders. He had plenty of acquaintances and admirers, but Black, Lupin, and Pettigrew had been the only ones he would ever call friends.

No, Black must have made a mistake and heard his best mate wrong, or was just pranking me, I decided. There was no way Potter would want me as a friend. Still, I had to apologize for snapping at him in Potions yesterday, or else the guilt would eat me alive for the rest of my life.

"I'll be back," I told Florence's sleeping form, unable to sit still any longer, and she merely grunted as I grabbed my bag and headed out the door.

I exited the common room, descending the winding staircase and emerging into the seventh-floor corridor. The castle was still quiet, but I could see students trickling into the Great Hall when I came down the marble staircase, and I followed them in, spotting a head of platinum blonde hair moving in the opposite direction.

"Sera, hey!" I said, waving to get the girl's attention. Her head snapped up at my voice, a look I couldn't identify flitting across her features before it was gone.

"Georgie," she replied, her voice stiff, and my smile faltered. I peered closer at her, but she looked away when my eyes met hers. I frowned.

"What's wrong, S?" I asked. "You've been avoiding us since the Express."

"Have I?" She raised a brow coolly, and something took root in my gut then, a niggling sense that something was very off about my friend. "I'm sorry; I hadn't noticed."

"Well, we have," I said. "Seriously, Sera, what's up? Did something happen over the summer?"

I dropped my voice at this last part. The Selwyns were a staunchly pure-blood family, and I wouldn't be surprised if they had tried to convert Sera to their anti-Muggle and -Muggleborn views. It wouldn't be the first time.

"No," she snapped, her blue eyes flashing, and I blinked at the vehemence in her voice. She seemed to realize her tone, however, for she took a deep breath and smiled at me. "Sorry, G. Nothing's wrong; I didn't mean for you and the other girls to worry. We can all sit together for dinner tonight, if that's okay?" She didn't give me a chance to answer. "Perfect. See you tonight."

And with that, she sashayed away, leaving me standing and gaping after her like an idiot. What the bloody hell had just happened?

Shaking my head, I entered the Great Hall, sweeping my eyes over the Gryffindor table. The Marauders weren't there, but that was no surprise; they were always late to everything. Even Lupin couldn't control his mates, and often stumbled in with them at the last minute, though he never seemed to mind.

I took my customary seat at the Ravenclaw table, grabbing a bowl of porridge and taking out _The Catcher in the Rye_ to continue my annotations. I worked steadily through breakfast, hardly looking up even when Hestia and Florence finally joined me. I knew I should tell them about my awkward conversation with Sera earlier, but a part of me didn't want to. It had all been so unsettling, and I needed to get over the weirdness first before confiding in them. And even then, things could go back to normal tonight when Sera joined us for dinner, but somehow, I doubted it.

"Look, G, it's your new best mate," Hestia said, and I looked up, following her gaze to the Gryffindor table, where James Potter and his mates had just taken seats.

"Wait, who?" Florence demanded. "You're _my_ best mate."

I sighed, marking my place in my book and replacing it in my bag. "Hestia, kindly explain to Flo that James Potter is _not_ my new best mate while I go apologize to him for being a berk yesterday."

Hestia winked, beginning to fill in Flo on all that had happened yesterday while I slung my bag over my shoulder, steeling myself before making my way over to the Gryffindor table. I came up behind Potter and Black, catching Lupin's eye from the bench across from theirs and grimacing when he gave me a questioning look. Ignoring him, however, I tapped Potter on the shoulder.

He turned around, half a bagel stuffed into his mouth and a spot of cream cheese smeared on his chin, and I tried not to look as disgusted as I felt as I said, "I'm sorry for how rude I was to you in Potions yesterday. I hope we can put it behind us."

I held out my hand, and Potter looked from me to it, swallowing his bagel with an audible gulp before raising his brows.

"Anything else?" he asked, and I frowned. What was he talking about?

"Er, pardon?" I said.

"I believe what you mean to say is, 'Oh, James, however did I live with myself being such a boring Ravenclaw all the time? Of _course_ I'll let you teach me how to have fun!'' He grinned widely at me, and I had the sudden urge to smear more cream cheese on his face.

"Nope, I think I said all I needed to say," I said. "Bye, Potter."

I turned to leave, but suddenly ran into something solid, and I groaned aloud when I realized that Nic was standing behind me.

"Morning, little sis," he greeted, moving in front of me when I tried to sidestep him. He looked from me to Potter. "James, was Georgie bothering you?"

"I was apologizing to him, not bothering him," I said, crossing my arms. "Now get out of my way."

"Apologizing for what?" Nic said. "The unnaturally stiff stick up your arse?"

"Bugger off," I snapped. "It's none of your business."

"Your business is mine, little sis," he said, smirking. He turned back to Potter. "What'd she say to you?"

Potter glanced between us for a long moment, before shrugging and saying, "No offense, Nic, but I think that's between myself and Georgie."

Nic frowned, but I let out a sigh of relief. I caught Potter's eye, and he shot me a wink.

"Whatever," Nic said after a long moment, reaching the conclusion that he couldn't be bothered. He smirked, pulling on my ponytail and ignoring my curse. "Catch ya later, little sis. Try not to annoy anyone to death."

He left, sauntering up the table to join the seventh-year Gryffindors, and I glared at his back, trying to keep my face from burning, but it was useless.

"Prick," I muttered, before turning back to Potter. "So, do you accept my apology?"

But he didn't answer, instead only scrutinizing me intently. In fact, all the Marauders were now looking at me, analyzing, and Black only smirked when I caught his gaze, which served to freak me out more.

"O-kay…" I said slowly, beginning to back away. "Er, I'm gonna go now."

Before I could turn tail and flee, however, Potter spoke.

"Nine o'clock, Gryffindor Tower. Be there."

I stared at him blankly. "What?"

He gave me a dry look. "Do I need to write it down for you?"

"No," I said, confused. From everyone else's looks, they were as bewildered as I was too. "Just…why, though?"

He only winked, giving me a mischievous grin. "You'll find out."

And with that cryptic message, he turned back to his mates, clearly dismissing me like I was some common peasant.

 _Georgie Valentine, what on earth have you gotten yourself into?_

* * *

I lived in fear for the rest of the day.

This was it, I decided. The moment of retribution. The Marauders were finally going to get me back for the points I took from them last term, and Black was going to get his revenge. That stunt he had pulled yesterday in Potions was to make me paranoid, and it had worked. I was _so_ dead.

"You're being overdramatic, G," Florence said, rolling her eyes and removing the large pods from the snargaluff we were working with in Herbology. "They're not going to kill you or anything."

"They're going to dangle me in the air and show off my knickers to the whole school like they did Snape," I moaned, watching her struggle with the pods.

"Wear some cute ones, then," was her only reply, and I blanched.

Arithmancy was worse. Lupin was in the same class, and he sat only two rows away from me. He didn't look at me once during the entirety of the lesson, and when the bell rang to dismiss us, he had bolted for the door, his long legs leaving me in the dust when I tried to corner him and demand what was going on.

 _What am I even freaking out over?_ I thought to myself, as I followed the stream of students heading for the Great Hall for dinner. _If I don't show up, they can't do anything to me. Right?_

Slightly cheered by the thought, I made my way to the Ravenclaw table, where Hestia, Florence, and Sera were already sitting in our usual spots. It looked normal, having Sera there, but there was an unspoken tension in the air that gave it a weird atmosphere.

"Georgie," Sera said, smiling, but it wasn't a full smile that reached her eyes. I grinned back nervously.

"Sera was just telling us about her summer," Hestia said, meeting my eyes, and I knew instantly that she was sensing whatever I was. "She went on vacation to Germany with her family."

"Oh," I said, blinking, "Well, that sounds neat."

"It was," Sera said, pouring some dressing onto her salad. Every movement of hers was dainty, proper, and though I knew she had gone through etiquette training when she was younger, she never tended to use her manners at Hogwarts. "There's such a rich history there, both magical and nonmagical. I learned so much." She smiled, her gaze sliding over to Florence. "Florence, darling, was one serving of mashed potatoes not enough?"

Florence paused in the midst of dolloping another helping of potatoes on her plate, her cheeks turning pink. I stared at Sera, appalled. We all knew that Florence had some self-esteem issues, beginning in second year when Davey Gudgeon had called her "Porky" and squealed like a pig any time she came around, and watching Sera so blatantly throw it back in her face rubbed me the wrong way.

"What has gotten into you?" I demanded, my anger rising when Florence ever so subtly pushed her plate away from her. Sera looked back at me coolly, and I only got angrier. "You come back from holiday and suddenly it's like you're an entirely different person! You act like you're better than us, and now you're being a – a – a _bitch!"_

Hestia's eyes widened at my remark; I was never one for extreme profanity, but I was so upset I didn't care. _I_ was the one who had taken care of Flo when I walked in on her trying to make herself sick after dinner one night, and _I_ was her best mate. And once, I would have said the same about Sera, but the girl sitting in front of me was not the friend I used to know.

Sera took a bite from her salad, calm as ever. "I learned a few things this summer, Georgie, darling," she said, her eyes glittering. "I was so naïve when I was a child, but now I see why I was so wrong to believe blood purity was something to be ashamed of."

Hestia scowled darkly. "Careful, S. You're beginning to sound like a Slytherin."

She smiled serenely back. "Hestia, I know you're a smart girl. Do you really think all Slytherins are so bad?"

"Only the blood supremacist ones," she snapped, and Sera's smile faltered.

I glared at the girl who once used to be one of my closest friends, but was now a complete stranger to me. "Sera, _darling,_ I'm only going to say this once, so I suggest you listen closely: We do not associate with people who think that someone is superior or inferior to others based on their blood status. And if you're going to count yourself among them, then I suggest you get a new group of friends." I waved my wand, and she yelped when her salad bowl shot halfway down the table, coming to a halt at the emptiest section. I mimicked her falsely sweet smile. "Bye, bye, now."

The other girl stood up in a huff, her blue eyes narrowed as she glared at me.

"I'd watch yourself if I were you, Georgie," she warned. "Not everyone is okay with bowing down to the Ravenclaw Queen – especially a _half-blood."_

She spat out this last part before turning on her heel and marching down to where her salad bowl now sat, and I watched her go, anger and disbelief churning in my gut. I turned to Hestia and Flo, who were both white-faced and shell-shocked.

"I can't believe that just happened," Hestia said, shaking her head. "Of all people, _Sera…"_

"It's gotten bad," Florence murmured, dazed. "It's gotten really bad if someone like Sera could just flip like that."

I nodded, grim. It was no secret that the wizarding world was being torn apart by opinions of blood status – Merlin, there was even a _war_ going on because of it. Hogwarts seemed to be a neutral zone, but we all knew that some of the Slytherins with ties to the new regime and You-Know-Who were quietly campaigning blood supremacy. But having one of our own turn on us, so swiftly and so dramatically, made me a lot more uncomfortable than I thought initially.

We ate the rest of dinner in silence, and sat for a long while afterwards, not saying anything. And what would we say? We had just lost one of our closest friends. There was nothing _to_ say.

Only a handful of students remained when we finally left the Great Hall, the torches burning low and the sky dark with clouds in the enchanted ceiling. We walked slowly back to Ravenclaw Tower, emerging onto the seventh-floor corridor and heading towards the tower.

I trailed behind Hestia and Florence, brooding, when suddenly a veil was pulled over my eyes and a hand clamped down on my mouth when I tried to scream.

"Relax, Ravenclaw," Sirius Black whispered in my ear, and chills erupted on my arms when I felt his breath on the hollow between my ear and neck.

I waited, heart hammering, watching Hestia and Florence disappear down the corridor as Black kept his hand over my mouth. I was acutely aware that I was standing with my back against his chest, his warmth seeping through my robes, and I severely hoped he couldn't feel the erratic beating of my heart as he finally dropped his hand, and I immediately whirled on him.

"If you're here for whatever twisted revenge plot you have going on in your head, save it," I snapped. "I'm not in the mood for your sick little games, Black."

He only gave me an easy grin, the berk – _Bastard,_ I corrected vehemently in my head. Now that I had let my tongue loose from its cage, all I wanted to do was swear.

"Not here for revenge, Ravenclaw," he said, and I tried to keep myself from staring at his impeccable features. We were still pretty close, and I was pained to see how much more attractive he was now than simply viewing him from afar. "James sent me."

"To kidnap me?"

He barked out a laugh, and I jumped at the sound.

"Something like that," he said, gesturing over his shoulder to the opposite corridor, where Gryffindor Tower was. "It's a quarter past nine. You're late."

Oh, sweet Merlin. I had forgotten about Potter's stupid meeting.

"I'm not going," I said. "You and Potter are nothing but trouble, and I want no part in whatever it is he has planned for me."

Black sighed, a lock of dark hair blowing off his forehead when he did. "Just hear him out, Ravenclaw. If you don't do it tonight, he'll keep trying, and in more embarrassing and persistent ways than this."

He gestured to the veil above him, and I started when I realized that I was still under it too. I guess that explained our proximity then.

"What is this?" I asked, not recognizing the spell, and he shrugged.

"Invisibility Cloak," he said casually, and I gaped.

"But – those are _incredibly_ rare!" I said. "How did you get one?"

"It's not mine," he said, "it's James's. And I'm sure he would love to tell you all about it if you just came with me."

"Oh, fine," I said, my curiosity winning out over my better judgement, and I flapped my hand at him impatiently. "Take me to your bloody common room, then."

"Certainly," Black said in an amused tone, and he led us down the opposite end of the corridor, keeping the Invisibility Cloak over us.

"Expecting trouble?" I asked, gesturing to the cloak, and he grinned.

"Nah," he said, with a touch of arrogance. "Just a precaution. Curfew's soon, and I don't want to run into Filch."

"Since when do you care about curfew?" Dear Rowena, I was talking a lot. Dinner must have emboldened me somehow, for normally at this point I was a stuttering mess around the bloke.

His grin widened, until it looked almost wolfish, and he winked at me. "I don't. But James insisted I take it, so I didn't get you into trouble with me."

"Merlin, is he _that_ desperate to be with Evans?" I said, rolling my eyes. "Can't he get his girl advice from someone other than me?"

Black shrugged, his smile faltering a bit. "Honestly, I dunno what's going on in his head at the moment, and he's my best mate." He looked thoughtful. "Clearly he sees something in you, though. I'm not sure what, but there's no telling with that one."

I frowned, noting how he said Potter saw something in me, and not him. I quickly shrugged that thought off, however; Black's approval was not something I needed.

"Here," Black said suddenly, slipping off the cloak until it covered just me. "I have to give the password; just follow me through when the portrait hole opens."

I watched, puzzled, as he approached a gilded portrait of a fat lady, saying something that caused the portrait to then swing open, allowing him access to a short tunnel beyond. He beckoned me after him, and I hurried through the tunnel, careful not to trip on anything, emerging into a violently scarlet-and-gold room.

The Gryffindor Common Room was cozy enough, with plush couches and a roaring fireplace, but it lacked the charm of the Ravenclaws. I followed Black to the fireplace, where I could see Lupin sitting and reading a book, with Potter and Pettigrew playing a game of wizard's chess on the floor beside him, though they all looked up at Black's arrival.

"Well?" Potter demanded. "Did you find her?"

Black gestured to me, still invisible. "You can take it off now. No one's paying any attention."

I still checked to make sure before removing the cloak, glancing around warily in case anyone had noticed a girl wearing a Ravenclaw uniform suddenly materialize in the wrong common room, but fortunately no one had seen. I took a seat next to Lupin, straightening my skirt and looking to Potter imperiously.

"I'm here," I said. "What is it that you want from me, Potter?"

Potter straightened his back, pushing his glasses up his nose as he said, "I propose a partnership."

"A partnership," I repeated flatly. "Why?"

"We both have things we could learn from one another, Ravenclaw," he said. "You teach me how to get Evans, and I'll teach you how to have fun."

"And if I say no?" I countered.

At this, Potter exchanged a mischievous glance with his friends; Lupin, at least, had the decency to look indifferent, but their shared look made me wary. Potter turned back to me with a devilish grin.

"There's still hell to pay for ruining our fun last term and almost costing us the House Cup."

I rolled my eyes, suddenly irritated. "Yes, I'm aware, since Black was so kind as to inform me of that yesterday." Potter looked to Black accusingly, but Black only held up his hands in a gesture of sheepish innocence.

"I may or may not have mentioned something about revenge," he said, and Potter sighed, running a hand through his messy hair.

"You're hopeless, Padfoot," I heard him mutter, before he turned back to me. "So, what? What can I do to get you to help me with Evans? Blackmail won't work, obviously, and you're not entirely willing, so what's your price, Ravenclaw?"

"Firstly, to stop calling me 'Ravenclaw,'" I said snidely. "I have a name, you know."

"Done," he said. "What else, Georgie?"

I paused, my retort of "Stop bothering me" dying on my tongue as I realized something.

Potter was utterly at my will here. I could see it in his eyes that he was serious about wanting this partnership. He had always been in love with Lily Evans, and he was entirely too desperate if he was coming to someone like _me_ for help in his love life. It was creepy, but oddly endearing, to know that he was willing to ask a virtual stranger for assistance in such a private (all right, not completely private, considering the whole school knew the sap liked her) part of his life – and the Marauders, as I had learned, were nothing _but_ privacy.

Okay, fine, I'll admit; I wanted to help. Blame the good nature of my heart, but I also saw this as an opportunity for myself. Getting close to Potter would get me close to Black, and wasn't that all I had wanted the last five years? To study him, to see what made him so enigmatic and magnetic? I was a scholar, a researcher; my thirst for knowledge and understanding was what _made_ me a Ravenclaw. And now I finally had a chance to conduct my research.

"Well?" Potter said, when my silence stretched on. He was looking at me expectantly, and I knew he had seen the gears turning in my head.

 _"If_ I agreed to help you," I stressed, "what would you do for me in return? How would you teach me how to have fun?"

"Ah, can't tell you that yet." Potter grinned, tapping his temple. "Trade secret, that. We'll get to it at a later time."

I stifled a sigh. "Okay, fine." I paused, sincerely hoping I wouldn't come to regret this. "I'll help you."

Potter punched a fist in the air, whooping, and I cringed, ducking my head when half the common room looked over. Lupin stared at me, something like sympathy written on his face.

"I hope you know what you're getting into, Georgie," he said quietly.

I didn't, not at all, but I only shrugged at him. "Guess we'll find out."

"We'll need to set up meeting times," Potter was saying when I faced him again. "And we'll need a codename for you, and ways to communicate outside of classes—"

"A codename?" I echoed, raising my brows. "Why do I need a codename?"

Potter pointed to himself. "Prongs." He pointed to Black. "Padfoot." Then Pettigrew. "Wormtail." And then Lupin. "Moony."

"Those are ridiculous," I said, and Pettigrew looked to me as if I had insulted his mum, but he didn't say anything. "If you're going to give me a codename, at least make it a good one."

"Fine," Potter said, waving his hand. "We'll get back to it. Anyway, we need meeting times and methods of communication, along with places to meet. You're not a Gryffindor, so it'll be tricky. We can't have people asking too many questions."

"So, I'm like a secret Marauder?" I said sarcastically, and Potter grinned.

"'Georgie Valentine, Secret Marauder,'" he said. "It has a nice ring to it."

"I'm glad," I said drily, but a thrill went through me all the same when he said it. It _did_ have a nice ring to it…

"We should probably start wrapping this up," Lupin said suddenly, glancing to the clock over the mantelpiece. I followed his gaze and saw that it was ten o'clock – curfew. I was already starting to question my sanity over agreeing to this as I leapt to my feet, cursing.

"Lupin's right," I said. "I have to get back to my common room before anyone notices I'm missing."

"Sirius will take you," Potter said, thrusting the cloak at me. "We'll get back to you later this week to set up our next meeting."

"Right." I watched Black stand up and stretch, averting my eyes when the hem of his shirt came up a little bit, and hoping nobody had noticed me blush. "'Night, then."

Potter and Lupin bid me farewell, but Pettigrew ignored me, which I didn't really count as a loss. Black walked over to me languidly and gestured at the cloak.

"You should put that back on," he said, and I obeyed, still awed when I saw my feet disappear beneath the cloak, and I followed him out of the Gryffindor Common Room, coming out into the corridor.

"Mr. Black!" the portrait of the Fat Lady exclaimed when he clambered out before me. "I should have known. Only you and those other boys you're always with think it's a smart idea to sneak out past curfew."

"Just me tonight," Black said easily, giving the Fat Lady a jaunty wave before starting down the corridor, leaving her spluttering behind him while I quickly fell into place with him.

"Here," I said when she was out of earshot, holding out some of the cloak, and he felt around a bit before finding the fabric and throwing it over his head.

I didn't have much to say, and it seems he didn't either, for the walk to Ravenclaw Tower was silent. I found I didn't mind it much, though, content with not speaking, though my heart annoyingly skipped a beat every time his arm brushed mine.

We came to the staircase at the bottom of the tower, and I shimmied out from beneath the cloak as Black momentarily stowed it away.

"Er, thanks for walking me back," I said.

He smirked, that one he used on all the girls to make them do what he wanted, but I looked away quickly, clearing my throat.

"You're welcome," he said, his voice low and husky, and I resisted the urge to turn tail and flee up the staircase.

"You can tell Potter I'm free on Saturday night for a meeting," I said instead, ignoring him. "Goodnight, Black."

I turned to leave, but his voice held me back. "Sirius."

"What?" I said, and he smirked at me again.

"My name's Sirius," he said, and I blinked.

"Oh. Er, goodnight, then, Sirius."

His smirk grew wider, and just before he pulled the cloak back on, vanishing from view, he said, "Goodnight, Georgie."

I spent the rest of the night trying to forget how good my name sounded on his tongue.

* * *

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	7. Snitches and Broomsticks

**Disclaimer:** _All rights go to JK Rowling. Anything you don't recognize is mine._

 **Welcome back! I hope all of you had a wonderful holiday and a great start to the new year!**

 **This chapter isn't that long, I'm afraid, but hopefully it still satisfies (that's what she said). ((I'm sorry, I've been watching _The Office_ too much lately - great show, highly recommend though)). Also, full disclosure: there were many opportunities for me to use innuendos involving broomsticks in this chapter, but you will be glad to hear that I limited myself to only one, or else every other sentence would have had one.**

 **Thank you for all the new favorites/follows, and thanks to my reviewers from last time: heroherondaletotherescue, wayneximoff, StarDust1987, tennismaniac19, GloriousFandoms, Epochs, Skendo, ScarofSun, GreyMoonHuntress, wickedgrl123, RunningGolden, quidditchlover, and PamelaPandemic!**

* * *

Chapter Seven: Snitches and Broomsticks

I thought Professor Flitwick's class would never end.

Charms – while not an easy class – was a tedious one, and, more often than not, my mind wandered during lessons, much like I was doing now. It didn't help that the classroom had also become distracting as of late; since we had entered our N.E.W.T. year, the class sizes had gotten smaller now that students had either dropped courses or failed to qualify for N.E.W.T-level, which meant that a lot of our classes were now shared by students from all four Houses, instead of our traditional two. Normally, I would've been fine with this, except nearly all of my lessons had at least one Marauder, if not all, in them. And unfortunately, I was stuck with all four of them in Charms.

I had made sure that Hestia and I had gotten seats as far away from them as possible, especially since Potter kept making secretive winks to me whenever he was in my vicinity, and I didn't feel like explaining to Hestia why.

Flitwick's class was also tense due to the presence of Sera, who had bestowed a cold glare on Hestia and I before purposefully taking a seat in the back next to one of the Slytherin students. I couldn't help thinking how fitting that was, but a part of me still hoped that she wasn't entirely gone, that she could still come back to us somehow. That hope was quashed, however, when she whispered something to the Slytherin girl she was sat next to, and they both sneered at me when they saw me looking.

I glared back before turning to the front again, dabbing my quill in some ink before beginning to doodle on the edge of the parchment I had taken out for notes. I was so focused on sketching out my flower that I barely noticed the glistening ink at the top of the paper before it had faded away, and I started as I read the words: _Boring class, eh?_

The words vanished after several seconds, and I was left staring at a blank piece of parchment again, except for my doodles at the bottom. What the _bloody_ hell was that? Had N.E.W.T. year already cracked me within the first week back at school?

My eyes widened when more words appeared at the top of the parchment.

 _Stop gawking at your paper. You look mental._

I snapped my mouth shut, my eyes narrowing again. Someone was using my parchment to communicate to me within the classroom, which meant that they were here with me if they could see what I was doing. And I had a sneaking suspicion of who it was.

 _What do you want, Potter?_

My words faded into the paper, and a few seconds later the hasty reply was scrawled back.

 _How'd you know it was me?_

I glanced up to Flitwick, but he was still droning on, so I responded.

 _A lucky shot in the dark. Seriously, what do you want?_

 _Don't you mean Sirius-ly? Haha._

I refrained from snapping my quill in half.

 _I will kill you._

 _That wouldn't be very productive for our partnership, now would it?_

 _Is there something you'd like to say, or are you just trying to annoy me?_

 _Why, is it working?_

I whirled in my seat to glare at Potter, who gave me a cheeky wave from the left-side of the room. Pettigrew was zoned out next to him, his eyes glassy, while behind him, Lupin was studiously taking notes, and _Sirius_ (it was still weird to refer to him as his first name) seemed to be making origami figures out of his parchment paper.

 _Just kidding,_ he scrawled back. _Sirius said you had Saturday night free. Meeting in the kitchens, 10:00?_

 _Fine. Can I go back to taking notes, now?_

 _Sure. Later, Georgie._

I sighed in relief, only to scowl at my paper as Potter wrote again.

 _P.S. Sirius says hi._

I felt my face get warm, and I turned slightly to see _Sirius_ wink at me, wagging the paper crane he had made proudly. I gave him a thumbs-up before quickly facing the front again, my cheeks still flushed, and wondered if I would make it to Saturday without spontaneously combusting first.

* * *

"You _have_ to come!"

"No, I don't, actually."

Hestia pouted at me, her dark eyes glistening.

"But you have to," she repeated. "You've been the team's good luck charm for _years!_ Every tryout you've been to, Ravenclaw's _always_ found someone good for the team. Please, Georgie, _please—"_

"All right, fine," I said, sighing and closing my book. "But if I come and you choose a bogus Seeker, I'll know your flattery was all a lie."

Hestia bounced to her feet, beaming, her long black hair swinging erratically in its ponytail.

"I won't let you down, G," she said, before grabbing my hand and dragging me out of the Ravenclaw Common Room. "Flo, c'mon!"

Florence, who had been watching the whole exchange amusedly, rolled her eyes, but reluctantly followed us anyway.

Hestia chatted the whole way to the Quidditch Pitch, where the Ravenclaw team was assembling to find themselves a new Seeker. I knew she was jittery, so I let her talk my ear off; she always rambled when she was nervous about something, and since Goldstein had made her co-captain this year, I knew she was feeling the pressure of tryouts. She was a shoe-in to become captain next year, after all, so she really had to prove herself this year if she wanted Goldstein to pick her.

The weather was mild, thank Rowena, or else I probably would've turned right around and gone back to the castle. There was a fair bit of wind, but the sky was clear, and the sun was warm, and I could see students milling around the grounds, taking advantage of the weekend and the good weather while it lasted.

I hadn't forgotten about my meeting with the Marauders that night, but a small part of me still hoped that they would. Despite my agreement to help Potter, the whole thing still made me leery, and I only hoped that my gut wasn't trying to tell me that something was off.

"Oh, no," Hestia muttered when we reached the pitch, her rambling cut short when we glimpsed what was going on in the center of the field.

"This can't be good," I agreed, watching the blue-and-bronze clad Ravenclaw team marching over to where a cluster of red-and-gold Gryffindors were, other students there for tryouts watching nervously at the edges of the pitch.

After exchanging a nervous glance, the three of us jogged the rest of the way to the pitch, arriving just as Vincent Goldstein, the Ravenclaw Captain, stopped before Nic, looking outraged.

"What the hell is this, Valentine?" he demanded, waving his large hand at the assembled Gryffindors. "Flitwick gave us the pitch for tryouts Saturday morning – and it's Saturday morning, in case you've gotten your days screwed up."

"Funny, that," Nic said, and simply hearing his voice was enough to make me angry. "Because McGonagall told _us_ the same thing."

"Then go work it out with her," Goldstein said. "We need to have tryouts."

"So do we," Nic pointed out. "Why don't _you_ leave, then, and come back later for your own tryouts?"

"We were here first," Goldstein said stubbornly, and the Ravenclaw team voiced their agreement.

The Gryffindors shifted, looking ready to pounce, and I realized that there was about to be a brawl unless someone intervened.

 _Why do I do the things that I do?_ I couldn't help but wonder as I stepped forward, planting myself firmly between the two captains.

"Georgie?" Goldstein said uncertainly from behind me, but I faced Nic, crossing my arms and trying to ignore all the eyes trained on me, especially Potter's and _Sirius's._

"What are you doing here?" Nic said, glaring at me. "I thought you hated Quidditch?"

"Then you thought wrong," I said. "Just let them have the pitch, Nic. You and your team can come back later."

"Of course, you would side with _them,"_ he said, rolling his eyes. "Typical."

"Over what? _You?"_ I said incredulously. "Don't make me laugh, Nic. You've never done anything to deserve my loyalty."

"I'm your _brother,"_ he said, and I snorted.

"Really? Because you've certainly never acted like one," I said, aware that everyone was still watching, but all the anger and frustration that had built up over the years was coming to the surface.

"All you've ever done is embarrass me, or belittle me, or walk all over me like I was nothing," I continued. "You're rude, you're a bully, and you treat me like dirt because I'm not a Gryffindor like you, or Sam, or Simon. And we may be blood, but you do _not_ have my loyalty, and you are _not_ my brother."

A stunned silence greeted my tirade, and for a long moment, there was no sound except the wind rushing through the stands around us. Nic's face seemed to contort through about a dozen emotions before it settled on furious, but I stood my ground. I was _not_ going to let him push me around. Not anymore.

"Fine," he said, and his voice was the coldest I've ever heard it. "I'll let your precious little Ravenclaws have the pitch." I felt my shoulders relax, until he said, "Only if _you_ can catch the Snitch."

I gaped at him, and he stared back coolly, a twisted smirk curling the edges of his lips. He gestured behind him, and I saw Sheldon bring forward the box that held the Quaffle, Bludgers, and the Golden Snitch.

"You can't be serious," Potter said, speaking up for the first time, and Nic whirled on him, though to the Marauder's credit, he didn't back down. "Georgie's not a trained Seeker."

"If my sister wants to act like she's part of their team, then she's more than welcome to keep it up," Nic said, reaching into the case and pulling out the Snitch. I saw its golden wings fluttering against his hand, and whatever stupor I was in shattered, leaving me filled with anger and a sudden, intense desire to prove Nic wrong – to prove _everyone_ wrong.

"Nic, mate," Sirius said, and his normally languid demeanor now seemed to radiate uneasiness. "C'mon, this is dangerous. Georgie could seriously get herself hurt."

"She doesn't even have a broom," Florence said apprehensively. "How can she fly?"

While everyone around me argued over what Nic wanted me to do, I tuned them out, listening to the anger and desire to prove my worth within. I was tired of being Georgie Valentine, the boring Ravenclaw who never had any fun and never took any risks. I was sick of being the black sheep in my own family, sick of being doted on by our parents, sick of being shat on by my brothers. I couldn't help if I was a Ravenclaw, but I'd be damned if I ever let anyone put me in a box and try to tell me who I was or who I had to be ever again.

"Hestia," I said calmly, and the arguing around me ceased when I spoke. "Give me your broom, please."

The other girl gaped at me.

"I'm sorry, _what?"_ she squawked. "No way! Georgie, you can't!"

"Just give me the damn broom!" I shouted, and for the second time that day, the pitch was rendered speechless.

When Hestia made no move to give me her broomstick, I made a noise of frustration, ready to shout again if need be, but before I could, _he_ spoke up.

"Take mine," Sirius said, and I looked to see him holding out his broomstick to me.

"Pads," Potter said, aghast, while everyone erupted around us.

"Are you _insane?"_ Hestia shrieked at him.

"Black, stop it!" Florence cried.

"Sirius, _no,"_ Sheldon said.

I only stared at him, trying to figure him out. He gazed back coolly, and I wondered what had made him change his mind. Five minutes ago, he had been protesting Nic, but now he was offering me his broom, a silent challenge in those grey eyes that I still had trouble meeting, though it was getting easier.

Once, I would've rejected his offer, scared that he had jinxed the broom somehow, that he would have gotten his revenge on me then. I didn't doubt that he hadn't dropped his desire for revenge, that he was simply biding his time, but like he had told me – his revenge would be far sweeter, and would take far longer to satisfy. He wouldn't waste his time on something as mundane as jinxing a broomstick, and this realization shocked me more than I let on, because I shouldn't know how Sirius Black's mind worked. It was impossible.

I took a step forward, putting out my hand for the broom, and he came forward, as well, holding it out for me. I wrapped my hand around the polished shaft, feeling the broom come alive at my touch, and though my first instinct was to jerk my hand back, I kept my grip on the broom, marveling at the thrumming in my fingertips.

"Keep your hands here," Sirius said quietly, grabbing my wrists lightly, one-by-one, and sliding them up the length of the broom until my hands were positioned correctly. My fingertips were tingling more now, though not necessarily from the broom as he watched me carefully.

"Swing your leg over," he said, and I obeyed, resting myself gingerly on the broomstick, and he smirked at me. "It's not going to bite you, Georgie. Put your weight on it."

I did as he said, and I knew without a doubt that my face was redder than a tomato at this point. Having Sirius Black give me broom-riding lessons in front of half the school wasn't exactly how I had wanted to spend my Saturday morning, but it was too late to back out now.

"Good," he said, checking my form and nodding approvingly. "Just remember, the broom will do whatever you want it to. You don't need to be overbearing, but don't be too lax, either. Think of it as a part of you, and direct it where to go unconsciously."

"Right." I nodded. "Because that makes total sense."

He half-smiled, and I nearly slid off the end of the broom at the sight, a newfound surge of determination striking me.

"Good luck, Georgie," he said, and the sound of my name on his tongue was what solidified my resolve.

I gave him a mock-salute before turning to Nic, my eyes narrowing when I saw him glowering at me, his lip curled back as if he wanted to snarl at me.

He said nothing, only releasing the Snitch, and it was gone in a blur of golden shadows, disappearing into the air so quickly I barely registered it.

I kicked off the ground, hard, and shot into the air so fast my stomach turned, my chest nearly hitting the length of the broomstick beneath me. I heard cheering and shouting below me, but the noise was growing more distant the further into the air I got, my ears popping with the different changes in pressure and altitude.

I willed the broom to stop, and it did, leaving me hovering in the air a hundred feet above the pitch, about as high as the goalposts on either end. Now that I was off the ground, I realized how absolutely deranged this was, and I couldn't help laughing.

The first and only time I had ever ridden a broom had been in my first year, and that ride had lasted all of about ten seconds before I had fallen off and sprained my wrist. I had vowed to never touch a broom again after that, but here I was, all because my tosser of an older brother had challenged me to catch a Snitch after I had made him look bad.

I didn't regret what I had said to Nic; it had all been true, and he had known it too, for he didn't deny any of it. Perhaps yelling it to the whole field had been a bit much, but I had been _so angry._ First Sera, and now Nic… I was tired of people thinking they were better than everyone else, especially those closest to them. And if it made me look like the bad guy, then so be it. But I hated the unfairness of it all, and I wanted it to change.

 _All right, G, save your inner monologue for later,_ I chided myself. _You have more important things to focus on now._

Like finding out wherever the hell that bloody Snitch went. I suddenly understood why Seekers had the hardest job as I looked around me, trying to figure out where the little bugger went. The sun was glaring in my eyes this high up, and the wind kept nudging my broom and tearing at my clothes, distracting me from my search.

Deciding that sitting in one place wasn't all that helpful, I began drifting around the stands, trying to keep myself in tune with the broomstick. It wasn't as difficult as I thought it would be, but then again, this was Sirius Black's broomstick. No doubt it was the best money could buy, especially when it responded to my every movement smoothly and succinctly. If I lived after today, I'd have to invest in one of these bad boys.

Five minutes had already gone by, and there was still no sign of the Snitch. I began to scan the air below me, seeing everyone down on the field as the size of ants, but for some reason, I wasn't afraid of the height. It was freeing, being this high up, and I never wanted to come down.

A glint of gold drew my eye, and my heart leaped, until I realized it was somebody's wristwatch that had caught the sun. My search resumed, and I wiped my sweaty hands on my jeans, adrenaline still coursing through me.

Fifteen minutes had passed since I had taken off, and I began to realize how much of an idiot I looked like. Who was I kidding? Potter was right; I wasn't a trained Seeker. There was no way I was going to find that Snitch.

 _Five more minutes,_ I told myself. _Just give it five more minutes._

I kept circling the pitch, alternating between high and low passes, my eyes searching the air all around me. I may not be a trained Seeker, but I was a Ravenclaw, and patience and analyzing would help me. If those traits could help me win at something as simple as billiards, then surely they could help me in Quidditch, as well, right?

 _One more minute. One more minute._

I was just about to give up when another flash of gold caught my eye, and I zeroed in on the Snitch, weaving and zooming around the Slytherin stands, on the opposite side of the pitch.

Leaning forward ever so slightly, I urged the broom to shoot for it, and it did, nearly unseating me in the process, but I managed to hold on. The Snitch dodged to the left, as if sensing me coming, and I adjusted the broom to follow it, my eyes streaming with tears from the force of the wind in my face.

I blinked them back, the gap between the Snitch and I narrowing as I came up on it. I reached out, wobbling unsteadily, but at the last second, it dropped down out of my grasp, spiraling towards the field.

Dipping the broom, I raced after it, the ground rushing up in a blur of green and brown. I could see the golden pinpoint that was the Snitch, and I tightened my knees and urged the broom faster, shooting down so rapidly I lost my stomach some fifty feet ago.

Close…I was _so close._ Just a few more feet…inches…

I was so wrapped up in catching the Snitch that I didn't hear the panicked screams or shouts calling my name, telling me to stop, that I was too close to the ground to pull up. The euphoria of proving Nic wrong was too much as my fingers closed around the struggling little ball, the one second of victory I had shattering instantly as my body slammed into the earth, and everything went black.

* * *

 **Please review! I'd love to know what you all think!**

 **Guess that meeting needs to be pushed back a bit, eh? :)**

 **xx**


	8. Complications

**Disclaimer:** _All rights go to JK Rowling. Anything you don't recognize is mine._

 **It's me again, back from the dead (finally). I apologize for not updating sooner; normally I don't wait so long between chapters, but I've been insanely busy. Sorry again!**

 **As for this chapter, I'm really not happy with the way it turned out, but eh. I'll probably come back and edit it later anyway, but hopefully it'll make up for the long wait.**

 **Thanks for all the new favorites/follows, and thank you to my reviewers from last time: StarDust1987, tennismaniac19, Raven Woods 2003, CB Weasley, PamelaPandemic, clichefandomgirl, Salma2, wickedgrl123, heroherondaletotherescue, lxslbrn, Rohirrim Girl 2187, harryparry, MamaStreet, vrzsk, and all the Guest reviewers!**

* * *

Chapter Eight: Complications

"How long is she gonna be out for?"

"A while, I imagine – Madam Pomfrey said half the bones in her body need to mend, and she took a nasty hit to the head when she fell."

Why were the voices talking so loudly? Every word felt like a nail being driven into my skull. I wanted to tell them to stop, but I couldn't make my mouth move.

"When she _fell?_ She divebombed straight into the ground!"

"It's not her fault her brother's a homicidal maniac!"

Nic. That absolute _bastard._ I was going to _kill_ him.

"I gotta admit, though, that took some serious guts on Georgie's part. I always pegged her as such a tight-ass – er, sorry, Hestia, Florence."

Flying. I had had a dream that I was flying, and that I had been chasing something. But what? A pair of grey eyes popped into my mind, and I wanted to remember, but before I could think anymore my stomach cramped and I rolled over, retching into the nearest thing I could find – which, unfortunately, happened to be onto the floor.

"Gross."

"Shut up, Vincent, she's waking up! Go get Pomfrey."

There was a rush of footsteps, and I felt a cool hand touch my forehead, making me cringe. The hand moved away quickly. "Georgie, can you hear me? It's Hestia. Are you all right?"

I cracked open my eyes, vaguely registering the outlines of the Hospital Wing and my friend's blurry face. I blinked, and her pinched expression came into focus, her dark eyes gazing at me in concern.

"Kill Nic," I mumbled, and she huffed out a shaky laugh.

"Georgie?" Florence was rushing over now, her face blotchy and red, and it looked like she'd been crying. "Oh, thank Merlin! I thought you were dead!"

"Not dead," I groaned. "But Nic will be."

"If McGonagall doesn't get there first," Hestia said grimly.

"What do you mean?"

"She was terribly angry," said Florence, her eyes wide. "She dragged him off to her office after you were taken here and nobody's seen him since. That was almost two hours ago."

Well, if there was anyone I would relinquish my claim to Nic's life to, it was Professor McGonagall. Her glares alone were enough to incinerate someone on the spot.

"Stand back, please," Madam Pomfrey commanded as she bustled over, wheeling a cart with a dozen different potions with her. "Miss Valentine needs her space." She waved her wand, and the puddle of sick I had puked onto the floor vanished. "Sit up, please, Miss Valentine. I'm afraid you have quite a bit of drinking to do."

"What happened?" I asked, regarding my limbs, which were swathed in so many layers of bandages that I had a hard time moving. There was also a turban of them wrapped around my head that made me feel lopsided and droopy, and the matron clucked her tongue at me.

"You took quite a nasty tumble on the Quidditch Pitch," she said, looking at me disapprovingly. "Honestly, dear, I don't know what possessed you to chase after a Snitch on a broom with no proper training – just look where you got yourself! A fractured wrist, several broken ribs, a concussion, and enough bruises to turn you purple." She clucked her tongue again, and I looked to Hestia and Florence despairingly.

"How long will it take me to heal?" I asked.

"Oh, not more than a week, I should say," the matron said, pouring out a dose of the first potion, which was a fizzing green concoction that did not look appealing at all. "The potions should only take a few days to do their work, and the rest of the time is simply precautionary. Don't fret, though; I have already instructed several of your classmates to bring you classwork and homework, and the house-elves will serve you your meals."

She tipped the potion down my throat with no warning, and I thought I was going to puke again at the horrid taste, but I had barely gotten it down before she was forcing the second potion upon me.

"Hestia." Vincent Goldstein, the Captain of the Ravenclaw Quidditch team and one of the voices who had been speaking earlier (I vaguely remembered him referring to me as a 'tight-ass' and I tried glaring at him, but it hurt my head too much and so I stopped) appeared at my cot, gesturing his head to the doors. "I told the team the news. They were outside, but I sent them off to dinner. We're meeting in the common room tonight."

Hestia nodded, and he turned to me, starting when he saw my eyes open. "Georgie! How are you feeling?"

My response was gagging on another potion, but he took this as good news, apparently, for he just waved to Hestia and Florence before departing the Hospital Wing. I looked to them questioningly, wondering why he had even been here, but my two friends were staunchly avoiding my gaze, preferring to watch Madam Pomfrey drown me instead.

"There," the matron said, after the last drop of potion had slid down my throat. "Those should begin to work in a few minutes. I'll let you talk with your friends, but I'm afraid visiting hours are over soon, and we still need to attend dinner. I will check on you afterwards, dear."

She whisked away, leaving me alone with Hestia and Florence, and I looked to them miserably.

"How bad is it?" I asked them, deflating when Florence bit her lip and Hestia grimaced.

"Pretty bad," Hestia said, and even though it was disheartening to hear, I couldn't be mad at her for being honest.

"You look like you lost a fight with the earth itself," Florence added. "Which, I guess you _did,_ technically…"

"Georgie, what in Rowena's name possessed you to pull such a stunt?" Hestia said, shaking her head. "You could've killed yourself!"

I stared down at the bandages swathed around my body, feeling my face begin to heat with shame and embarrassment.

"Nic was being a git," I mumbled.

Hestia and Florence exchanged an incredulous glance.

"Nic is always a git, Georgie," Florence said. "You shouldn't have let him get to you like that."

I clenched my right fist, considering my left wrist was fractured still, struggling not to let the tears stinging my eyes fall. They were right, of course – Nic had always been an arrogant, spiteful bully. So why had I let him get to me? Why did I suddenly feel as if I had had to prove myself to him?

 _Not him,_ I realized despairingly. _Sirius Black. I had wanted to prove myself to Sirius Black, and his stupid mate, James Potter. I had wanted to show them that they hadn't made a mistake in choosing me to be their new partner. And look where that desperation had gotten me._

Hestia sighed, her face softening when she saw my dejected expression.

"At least you're going to be okay, G," she said. "Flo and I will bring some of your work in the evenings before dinner and you'll be better in no time." She hesitated only slightly, but her pause was enough to put me on my guard immediately.

"What?" I said suspiciously. "What are you not telling me, Hess?"

She and Florence traded another glance before she turned back to me, wincing slightly.

"Well, er, Vincent pushed back the Ravenclaw team tryouts," she started.

I blinked. "Er, okay. That's good, I guess."

She nodded, biting her lip. "It is. But, erm, he wanted me to ask you…if you would try out for Seeker?"

I stared at her, wondering if this was some sort of cruel joke. It had to be. I had literally flown straight into the ground and nearly killed myself. Why would he want me to try out for the Seeker position after witnessing such a horrible display?

"Why in Merlin's name would I do that?" I demanded, and she flinched back from my tone, but Florence looked incredulous.

"Georgie, are you kidding me?" she said. "You caught the bloody Snitch!"

My mouth dropped open. _"What?"_

"We saw it, we all did!" She was now looking between Hestia and I excitedly. "It was in your hand when you hit the ground!"

I looked to Hestia, and she nodded in affirmation, smiling slightly.

"Vincent reckons we could make a Seeker out of you with some decent training," she said to my baffled look. "And there's no harm in trying out, yeah?"

"Nic would lose it if he found out I was trying to be a Seeker," I said, scowling as I remembered Sam's mockery over the summer about me trying out for the Quidditch team. "He would sabotage me in every way possible."

"Then that's more reason to show him up," Florence said firmly.

"You can't live in his shadow forever, G," Hestia said softly. "Sooner or later you're going to have to do something for yourself."

Before I could even think of an argument to that, Madam Pomfrey emerged from her office and shooed the other girls out, promising to come check on me after dinner.

Left alone with my thoughts and a roaring headache, I settled into my pillows and allowed myself to drift back off to sleep, dreaming of flying on clouds and chasing after a man with grey eyes that remained infuriatingly out of my reach.

* * *

The next day saw a slew of unwelcome visitors bringing me cards and flowers and various treats from Honeydukes, much to my annoyance and confusion. Some of them I understood, like the Ravenclaw Quidditch team – they had been there to see my colossal screw-up, and though they didn't say anything to me directly about Goldstein wanting me to try out for Seeker, I could tell they knew by the furtive glances they kept throwing me.

Sheldon visited and brought me a tacky but very sweet handmade card signed by the Gryffindor team. My heart had leapt when I saw Sirius's elegant signature next to Potter's scrawl, but my mood soured when I realized that Nic's name was the only one missing.

"I think he's really banged up about it all, Georgie," Sheldon had said to my scowl. "It's been two days and I've hardly seen him. I think he got a Howler from your parents, too."

Great. As if my brother needed another reason to hate me. My parents had always been overprotective of me (as evidenced by their novel-length letter asking me how I was doing and that they were so scared my injuries would hinder my success in lessons), which often meant that my brothers were usually on the receiving ends of their tirade if they found out they had messed with me in any way.

"Good," I said, glaring down at the wrapping around my wrist. "He deserves it. He's a prat."

Sheldon sighed, but didn't disagree, only promising to bring me some snacks later before quickly departing.

I couldn't help wondering where James Potter and Sirius Black were. After all, Potter had made me an honorary Marauder, and Sirius had been the one who had let me borrow his broom, so shouldn't they care about my wellbeing, just a little bit? My question, however, was answered only a few days later.

"GEORGIE!"

I looked up from my Charms homework, wincing at the shout that had echoed around the Hospital Wing and was now reverberating in my ears, making my head ring.

"Potter." I sighed, suddenly regretting my wish to see him as I put down my quill and folded my hands in my lap expectantly, knowing any focus I had before was never coming back. "What do you want?"

He was beaming at me mischievously, with Sirius, Remus, and Pettigrew on his heels, as ever. His hands were clasped behind his back, and I eyed him warily.

"To see how our Secret Marauder was doing, of course." His beatific smile was beginning to creep me out. I threw him a dark glare.

"I've been here for four days," I pointed out, but secretly, I was glad they hadn't come sooner. Madam Pomfrey had only taken all my bandages off the night before, so I no longer looked like a mummy, but my cheeks were still swollen a bit and there was a cut fading over my right eyebrow that I tried to hide with my hair.

"We would've come sooner, but we had tryouts to get through." He grimaced at the mention of tryouts, his eyes trailing over me nervously. "You look better, though. How are you feeling?"

I shrugged. "Sore, but nothing's broken anymore."

"That's great!" he said quickly. "Er, here – we got you something."

He whipped out a handful of wildflowers from behind his back and held them out proudly. Roots and clumps of soil were still attached to the stems, but he looked so pleased with himself that I had to smile.

"Pretty," I remarked, gesturing to the vase on my bedside table. "You can take those out and put yours in."

Potter removed the bunch of sunflowers from the vase and swapped his own bouquet in, wrinkling his nose at all the yellow flowers. "Gross. Who're these from?"

"There's a card, James," said Remus, rolling his eyes and plucking out said card. However, his face morphed into a disgusted expression as well after reading the card. "Blimey, _Thomas Boot_ gave you these?"

"He's a prefect, too," I said, frowning. "What's wrong with that?"

"I'm surprised, is all," said Remus quickly. "Considering—"

"—His head's so far up his own arse it's amazing he thought of another person besides himself," Sirius finished, plopping down at the foot of my cot and kicking his feet up. I tried not to stare as he flipped his hair out of his eyes, but it was hard, especially with his leg pressed up against mine, with only a thin blanket and his jeans separating us.

"Can we go now?" said Pettigrew before I could reply. "We're missing dinner." He looked annoyed, as if he couldn't fathom why his friends wanted to talk to me. I couldn't blame him, though – I still wasn't sure why myself, either.

"Feel free, Pete," said Potter easily. "We still have some details to hash out with Georgie here." He punched my arm and I hissed out a pained breath. "Shit. Sorry, Georgie."

I waved him off. Pettigrew grumbled, but stay put, and Potter turned back to me. "So, when is Pomfrey setting you loose? We still have to have that meeting."

I looked between them all in bafflement. "Is this not a meeting?"

"Nah, doesn't count," he said. "We're too exposed out here in the open. And our mission is top secret."

"Our mission of getting Evans to like you and showing me how to have fun is top secret?"

Potter nodded seriously. "Utmost."

I looked to Remus, but he only shrugged. _Gee, some help you are, Lupin._

"I think I'm getting out this Saturday," I said, scratching the part of my head that still tingled occasionally from my concussion. Potter clapped his hands together.

"Perfect," he said. "Midnight, then. There's a tapestry of a knight riding a unicorn in the eastern wing of the fourth floor. Meet us behind there. Sirius will come get you again with the Cloak; he knows where it is."

"Er, all right." I had walked by that tapestry loads of times and knew there was nothing behind it, but maybe he had meant another one. Either way, Sirius knew how to find it, and I felt a thrill go through me when I realized I would be alone with him again.

Potter winked at me. "Excellent. See you Saturday, Georgie."

I waved as he left, with Remus and Pettigrew following, but I swallowed nervously as Sirius made no move to get up and go with them, instead only grabbing the copy of that morning's _Daily Prophet_ that I had discarded on the table and shaking it open.

Too nervous to say anything, I pulled my Charms homework closer to me, attempting to ignore the Marauder sitting opposite me on the same bed, but concentration was impossible. Finally, I had to break the silence.

"Er, how's your broom?" I asked. "I hope I didn't damage it. If I did, I'd be more than happy to pay—"

"Don't worry about it, Georgie," he said, looking up from the paper briefly to meet my eyes. "You took the brunt of the fall, anyway. And it's only a broom."

 _Yeah, only the best broom money can buy,_ I wanted to retort, but I held my tongue. Money didn't matter to a pure-blood like Sirius Black, whose family was one of the wealthiest and esteemed in the country. He didn't seem to notice my silence, though, and we lapsed back into not speaking, until ten minutes later his voice captured my attention again.

"There's a rumor going around the school," he said nonchalantly, and my heart dropped into my stomach in panic as he looked up at me, smirking. "Goldstein wants you to be Seeker for Ravenclaw."

"Oh, that." I tried to laugh, play it off cool, but it came out like a wheeze from a dying man. "Gossip, you know? People make up the craziest things."

"True," he said, "but I saw you on the pitch, Georgie. You caught the Snitch before you hit the ground. A catch like that, from the height you were at?" He shook his head. "You have the instincts for it."

I was suddenly irritated – at Goldstein, for wanting me to try out, and at Hestia, Florence, and _him,_ for thinking I was some Quidditch prodigy waiting to happen.

"My only instinct was divebombing the ground and nearly splitting my head open," I grumbled. "I'm not trying out for the bloody team, not when Nic and nearly everyone in this school would laugh themselves silly at me for being the worst Seeker the world has ever seen."

"Fuck Nic," he said bluntly, and I started. He was looking at me with something close to anger in his eyes, but I couldn't be sure. It was hard to focus on anything with him staring at me so intently. "He only did that stunt to embarrass you, but you were the one who showed _him_ up, Georgie. Forget what he thinks. Forget what this whole ruddy school thinks. Take a chance and do something for _you."_

His words echoed those of Hestia's from earlier in the week, and suddenly, I was angry.

"Why does everyone keep saying that?" I burst out. "I do things for myself, thank you very much. I get good marks so I can have a good future, I do internships to help my career path later on, and I participate in extracurriculars that I find interesting rather than party every weekend. What is so wrong about that?"

"But are you doing those things for yourself, Georgie?" he asked me seriously, his grey eyes darkening in intensity. "Are you doing them because you like them, or because they're fun? Or did your parents tell you that you had to do those things because of your 'future?'"

He made air quotes around the last word, and I felt like I had been slapped.

"You don't even know me," I snapped. "You know _nothing_ about me, Black. How can you be so rude to just assume those things about me?"

"It's not assuming when you're an open book, love," he said, raising a perfectly arched brow. "I knew everything about you from the moment you walked up to us last term and started docking points."

"So?" I demanded. My head was beginning to pound, I was so rattled, but I clenched my teeth and glared at him.

"You're the Ravenclaw Queen," he said, sitting up and putting us in closer proximity. Normally I would've been a flustered little girl at that point, but my anger was making me see red. "You're expected to be perfect, and so you are. You play by the rules, you do what you're told, and you never question why." He sighed. "There's a reason James wants to help you, and it's because he'd been raised the same way before coming here. Staying on the straight and narrow and being obedient to everyone else's rules is no way to live, Georgie. I hope you understand that."

He swung his legs over the side of the bed and stood up, his eyes never once breaking contact with mine.

"Think about what I said," he told me. "And have your answer ready by Saturday."

"What?" I spluttered. "An answer to what? You haven't asked me anything!"

But he was already walking away, only giving me a jaunty wave in reply as he left the Hospital Wing.

I shoved my Charms homework away from me, turning over on my side and taking a shuddering breath to keep myself from crying, wondering when my life had become so complicated.

* * *

Madam Pomfrey discharged me early on Saturday morning. I practically fled from the Hospital Wing, hoping I would never have to see that place again. The matron was nice enough, but I missed roaming about the castle and eating meals with my friends. And not to mention that it would be a relief to be in lessons again – I felt so behind in all my coursework that I imagined Remus Lupin or Lily Evans taking my number one spot, and it did not please me.

Florence kept up a steady stream of chatter as she escorted me back to Ravenclaw Tower, but I snapped back to reality when she suddenly asked, "Did Nic even come to see you at all?"

"Of course not," I said. "He wouldn't even have showed up to my funeral if I _had_ died."

Florence bit her lip, her oval face flushed and worried. "I dunno, Georgie… He seemed pretty upset from the few times that I saw him."

I scowled, wondering why everyone was suddenly trying to make excuses for my troll of a brother. "He's only upset because Mum and Dad sent him a Howler. Sheldon told me."

"I don't think it's that," she hedged, but she must have seen the look on my face, for she dropped the subject.

We came to the bronze, eagle-head knocker that guarded the entrance to our common room, and it opened its mouth as we approached, a smooth voice issuing from its beak as it said, "When you need me, you throw me away. But when you're done with me, you bring me back. What am I?"

"My sanity," I muttered.

"An anchor," Florence answered, and the door swung open, allowing us entry into the common room.

Before I could follow Florence inside, though, another voice called out from behind us. "Georgie?"

I turned to see Nic standing halfway up the spiral steps of the tower, looking at me as if I were a ghost. At my acknowledgement, however, he spoke again.

"Hey, er, can we talk?" he said, hitching a thumb over his shoulder, and I stared at him, unblinking.

Florence gave my back a little nudge. "Talk to him. You both deserve to hear what the other has to say."

Hating it, but knowing she was right, I expelled a tight sigh and nodded, trudging back down the stairs to where my brother waited.

"You look…good," he said when I reached him, scanning me head to toe quickly, where the only evidence of my fall was the bandage wrapped around my wrist still.

 _"Fractures are trickier than a clean break,"_ Madam Pomfrey had told me. _"Give it another week and it should be fine."_

"As compared to what?" I asked scathingly. "Dead?"

He winced, rubbing a hand over his short Mohawk. "Okay, I deserve that one."

 _"Deserve?"_ I said, my voice rising. "What you _deserve_ is a punch on the nose for setting me up like that!"

"I know," he said, grimacing. "It was stupid of me, Georgie. But you were the one who got on the broom—"

"Don't," I said coldly. I was standing two stairs above him, and it was the first time in my life where I was the one looking down on him as he gazed up at me. "Don't pretend like this was all my doing, Nic. You knew I would take the bait because you knew how _tired_ I was of being kept down by you. All my life, you, Sam, and Simon have belittled me, and mocked me, and made me feel like my own brothers hated me. Do you know how much that _hurt?"_

"No," he said quietly, looking ashamed, "but I do know what it's like to live in the shadow of your little sister. All I ever heard from Mum and Dad was Georgie _this_ and Georgie _that._ 'Oh, Nic, why can't you be more like your sister?' 'Nic, just focus on Quidditch, you know you'll never get into the Ministry unless your marks are as good as your sister's.'" He shook his head, and I was shocked to see the red rims around his eyes – light green, like my own. "I screwed up, Georgie, I _know_ that, but just once, I wanted to see you fail at something that _I_ was good at." He laughed bitterly. "Except now Goldstein thinks you're a Quidditch legend in the making, so I couldn't even get _that_ right."

"I just wanted to be like you and the twins," I said, my voice oddly scratchy. "I'm the only Ravenclaw in the family, and Mum and Dad treat me like I'm something special because of it." I dropped my head, blinking rapidly at my shoes. "I hate what they did to us. It drove us apart. And now look where we are." I gestured at ourselves, standing alone on the staircase with the shadows of our pasts filling the space between us. "I'm sorry, Nic. For everything."

"I'm sorry, too," he said, choking on tears as he suddenly crushed me to his chest, and I began to cry too when I realized that this was the first time he had hugged me in seven years.

"This has to stop," I whispered into his shoulder. "We can't keep doing this to each other, this – _animosity._ Or else it'll never get better."

He nodded into my neck, his arms tightening around me. "We will. I promise, Georgie, we will."

We broke apart a few moments later, dabbing at our eyes and clearing our throats. It had been so long since we had ever been affectionate towards each other that we didn't know what to do for a minute, but eventually I spoke.

"No more sabotage," I said. "No more ugly names, no more mocking, no more cruelty. We have to be a united front now."

He smiled a bit. "You make it sound like we're fighting a war."

"We are," I said truthfully. "The war between us and Mum and Dad. They can't keep dividing us anymore. We have to stand up to them, or else we'll always be stuck in this same pattern of jealousy and rivalry."

"You're right." He nodded solemnly, and I don't think I had ever seen him look so serious. He held out his hand then. "United front it is, then."

I smiled, taking his hand and shaking it, and it was like something new and fresh had begun to sprout in my chest at the smile my brother gave me.

"I'll let you get back," he said, gesturing up the stairs, to where the eagle-head knocker was. I had a strange feeling it had been watching us the whole time, but I wasn't bothered by it. "I have to get back to my common room, anyway. Quidditch stuff."

He suddenly paused, looking at me thoughtfully. "You should try out, you know. You'd be good."

I stared at him as if he had grown a separate head. "Why on earth would I do that?"

He shrugged, giving me a cocky grin. "You're a Valentine, sis. The Quidditch gene runs in our family, trust me."

Before I could find a way to protest, he turned and started down the stairs with a last, "See ya, G!"

Shaking my head, I leaned over the railing and shouted, "Nic!"

He paused, looking back up to me questioningly, and I gave him a mischievous smile. "I love you."

He rolled his eyes. "Love you too, sis." He suddenly pointed a finger at me. "And if you ever tell anyone I said that, I'm putting my toenail clippings in your food."

I laughed harder than I had in days.

* * *

 **Please review! Let me know what y'all thought of this chapter!**

 **xx**


	9. The Taste of Freedom

**Disclaimer:** _All rights go to JK Rowling. Anything you don't recognize is mine._

 **Welcome back! Sorry for the delay!**

 **Thank you for all the new favorites/follows, and thanks to my reviewers from last time: StarDust1987, tennismaniac19, heroherondaletotherescue, Degrassiloverxoxo, lindir's gaze, Courtenae727, CB Weasley, Rohirrim Girl 2187, LoveFiction2018, Epochs, PamelaPandemic, Lisamdeansa, Guest 1, Guest 2, and Guest 3!**

* * *

Chapter Nine: The Taste of Freedom

My reconciliation with Nic left me in a considerably better mood all that day, but when the sun fell below the horizon and the hours whittled down to midnight, I could feel my nerves standing on edge again.

I still hadn't forgotten my conversation with Sirius Black earlier in the week, and just the mere thought of it made me tense in my seat, my agitation at his presumptuous attitude making me even more apprehensive about the meeting with the Marauders.

"G, you're suffocating your knight," said Florence from where she sat across me, a game of wizard's chess between us. I realized she was right, and loosened the hold on my black horse's head, the chess piece squirming uncomfortably in my hand.

"Sorry," I said to it, before placing it on the board.

Florence shook her head, clucking her tongue. "And now you've sacrificed your knight to my queen."

I looked on disinterestedly as my knight was kicked ceremoniously off the board to join the rest of the black pieces piled on Florence's side, her collection considerably larger than mine. Though Florence was the best chess player of us all, I usually never lost to her this badly, and she seemed to notice too, for she sighed and sat back in her chair.

"You're not even trying, Georgie," she complained. "It's no fun this way."

"Sorry," I repeated, sitting back as well and turning to stare out the window, lost in thought.

Hestia looked up from her Charms homework and kicked my shin lightly. "Why so glum, G? I thought you and Nic made up?"

"We did," I said, watching the stars appear outside the tower window one by one. I didn't know how I could explain that I was upset over what Sirius Black had said to me several days ago; that would just lead to questions that I wasn't ready to answer, such as why Sirius Black would be talking to me in the first place and why the Marauders had visited me in the Hospital Wing.

I felt them exchange a glance behind my back, but I didn't really care. I was thinking instead of how if Sirius didn't apologize to me that night then all deals were off with the Marauders. Guilt flared faintly in my gut as I recalled Potter's plea for help in regard to Evans, but I was adamant in my decision. Sirius may have gotten away with everyone else worshipping the ground he walked on in this school no matter his faults, but it was time for him to learn that he didn't have the power to say whatever he wanted and expect there to be no consequences.

Hestia and Florence left me alone for the rest of the evening, sensing that I wanted to brood, but at eleven-thirty they called it quits and bid me goodnight before disappearing up to our dormitory. Deciding that I should probably get a move on, as well, I stood up and stretched before making my way to the door of the common room. Before I had a chance to reach for it, however, it swung open of its own accord, and the person allowed entry scampered inside so quickly they ran straight into me.

A glimpse of silvery blonde hair alerted me instantly that it was Sera, and whatever scowl that had been on my face earlier deepened as she straightened and made eye contact with me. I noticed suddenly that it looked like she'd been crying, but any former feeling of friendship that would have prompted me to ask her if she was all right before was gone as soon as her face twisted into a sneer.

"Watch where you're going," she snapped at me.

"My bad," I said scathingly. "Forgive me if my lowly half-blood status wiped off on your _pure_ self."

She rolled her eyes, moving past me, but I was already in such a foul mood that everything that had been left simmering under the surface now came to a boil.

"What were you doing out so late, anyway?" I called after her. "Did your new Slytherin pals want you to perform a blood sacrifice for your initiation? Or did they rather you just torture a few firsties to prove you're one of them now?"

"Shut up, Georgie!" She whirled on me, and I thought I saw a glimmer of fear in her eyes before it was gone, her expression one of purest loathing, and despite my anger it still hurt to see my former best friend looking at me with such disdain. "If anyone in this school thinks they're better than everyone else then it's you!"

"Look me in the eye and say that again," I said, my hands clenching into fists by my sides. "At least I'm not the one lining up to get my Dark Mark like you and your snakes."

"Sweet, witty little Georgie," she said derisively, her eyes sparking blue fire and her pretty face contorted in a snarl. "You're so clever, aren't you? Such a good girl, who does everything that's always asked of her. Is that why Sirius Black has taken interest in you? Because you'll let him do anything to you?" She snorted. "And I thought he liked a _challenge,_ but I guess easy birds who lift up their skirts at his beck and call work, too—"

"You're despicable," I snarled. "Have you always hated me this much, Sera, or did Mummy and Daddy finally manage to brainwash you into the perfect little pure-blood princess you were always meant to be?"

"Leave my family out of this, Georgie!"

"Or what?" I yelled back.

Her eyes narrowed, and her expression turned dangerous.

"Pray you never find out," she said lowly, before whisking away up the girls' staircase and out of sight.

I kicked out at the table next to me and felt satisfied when my shoe managed to chip off a big part of the wooden leg before storming out of the common room, the guilt from that one small action already making the anger drain from my body.

How did Sera end up like this in the span of a few short weeks? What had happened over the holiday to morph her into such a terrible person? The part of me that considered her a friend was already feeling guilty over what I had said to her, of what I had accused her of, but the rational part of me knew that this wasn't okay. This wasn't _her._ My mind drifted in the direction of the Imperius Curse, but her family wouldn't do that to her.

Would they?

I was so wrapped up in my thoughts that I didn't even see Sirius until I bumped into him at the bottom of the staircase. He didn't even stumble, he was so much bigger than me, but I had to reach out and grab the bannister after smacking into his chest.

"Careful, Georgie," he said, smirking. "We wouldn't want you to end up with another concussion, now, would we?"

"Just take me to Potter before I regret any of this," I said wearily, allowing him to throw the Invisibility Cloak over us and lead the way down the corridor.

"What's got you in a mood, Valentine?" he asked.

"I don't want to talk about it," I muttered, not even attempting to deflect his question. I _was_ in a mood, and there was no use hiding it.

He snorted. "What, did you get an E on an essay or something?"

I ignored him, feeling the dull embers of my anger flaring again. The last thing I wanted was to have a screaming match with Sirius after I had just had one with Sera, but he kept pushing.

"C'mon, Georgie," he said, bumping my shoulder with his. Normally I would've started hyperventilating at that point, but all I felt was tired. "You're being pensive, even for a Ravenclaw."

"How do you deal with it?" I blurted out suddenly. "Your family and your brother are all Slytherins, but you're not. How do you handle it?"

When he didn't speak immediately, I looked to him questioningly to find him staring straight ahead, his face stony and his mouth pressed into a hard line. I felt like kicking myself; everyone knew Sirius didn't get along with his family, and I had stupidly brought up the one thing he wouldn't want to talk about.

"Never mind, you don't have to answer that," I said hastily. "I just—" I sighed, shaking my head. "I thought I knew someone who turned out to be so different, and now I have no clue what to do."

He took my advice and didn't answer, and we spent the rest of the walk in silence. By the time we reached the tapestry of the knight riding the unicorn, I was feeling distinctly awkward, but he merely pulled the tapestry aside and all but shoved me inside a passage I had never seen before.

We removed the cloak to find Potter, Lupin, and Pettigrew sitting on the passage floor, playing cards. Lupin's wand tip was illuminated to give them some light, and after we had entered the passage, Sirius waved his wand and muttered, _"Muffliato."_

"What is this place?" I asked, looking around in confusion.

"Secret passageway," Potter said proudly. "We found it in our first year."

I shook my head, not even surprised at this point; the Marauders had always been notorious for sneaking around at night, I'd heard, so it would make sense for them to know more about secret passageways in this castle than anyone.

"Come sit, Georgie," he said, patting the floor next to him. "Let's get down to business."

I sat beside him reluctantly, sitting at an angle so my dress wouldn't expose anything. Sirius took the space on Potter's other side, next to Pettigrew, who seemed to be steadfastly ignoring me.

"So," Potter said, clapping his hands. "What do I do?"

I stared at him blankly. "Erm, what?"

"About Evans!" He looked to me hopefully. "How do I get her to be with me?"

"Firstly, by not 'getting' her to do anything," I said. My row with Sera had made me more blunt than usual, but that didn't seem to deter him. Instead he rested his chin in his hands and listened to me carefully. It was oddly endearing, in a way, and it softened me up a bit as I continued. "You have to understand that she's her own person. It's admirable to want her, but you shouldn't be forcing anything on her. It has to be her choice, too."

I paused, letting the words sink into his brain, but also to congratulate myself a little bit. I had worried that I would end up rambling incoherently, but that was actually a solid piece of advice I just gave. Maybe this wouldn't be a complete disaster after all.

Potter seemed put-out for a moment, but he recovered quickly. "Yeah, of course. I mean, it'd be devastating if she never wanted me – I'd be heartbroken and probably die soon after and end up withering in a grave and mourning for lost love for an eternity – but I see what you're saying."

 _Rowena, I'm sorry for tainting the reputation of Ravenclaw by agreeing to this partnership with James Potter. Please forgive me._

"Er, yeah," I said. "And maybe instead of publicly declaring your undying love for her every Tuesday, you could try, I dunno, treating her normally?"

He looked as if he had never heard of the word 'normal' before. "But then how would she know that I have feelings for her?"

"Something called subtlety?" I suggested. "You know, by hinting at it. Think of it as…leaving clues for her to find or something."

"So, a scavenger hunt?"

"Not a literal one," I said hastily before he got any ideas. "Just…you know, little things. Dropping a compliment during casual conversation. Brushing her arm and smiling as you walk by. Those sorts of things."

"You're saying I should take it slow then?" He had a strange look on his face that made me think he had never taken anything slowly in his life.

"Yeah. Like, keep it natural. Gradual. Let her warm up to you, then form a friendship out of that. And who knows? Maybe by then she'll want it to go further."

To his credit, he seemed to be taking in everything I was saying with an open mind, and I couldn't help but breathe a tiny sigh of relief. Potter was perceptive when he wanted to be, which made my job a lot easier.

"I'll keep that in mind," he said, nodding approvingly. "Now, let's talk about you, Miss Valentine."

I internally groaned. I had almost forgotten about my side of the deal, and how he was going to teach me 'how to have fun.'

"I had some things in mind before your little Quidditch blunder—"

"—Definitely more than just a blunder—"

"—But now, after some reconsideration—"

"—Yippee—"

"—I think your first lesson in having fun would be best utilized by trying out for the Ravenclaw Quidditch team."

"No," I said flatly. "No way. Not happening."

"Why not?" he said incredulously. "You were brilliant!"

I glared hard at Sirius, wondering if he had put Potter up to this, but he didn't seem to be paying any attention, only reshuffling the deck of cards over and over again.

"I was not brilliant," I said, holding up my wrist so he could still see my brace. "I nearly killed myself!"

"And that's what's so fun!" he said. "Can you honestly tell me that you didn't love it? Being up so high, flying around with the wind in your hair and the sun on your face and the world being so far away? The adrenaline you felt when you pelted towards that Snitch? The euphoria of catching it?"

My argument died in my throat as I realized that he had made a good point. He touched on something that I'd been silently thinking about for the last week, and it put a lump in my throat. Because the truth was, I _had_ loved it. And I didn't regret any of it.

"That's your first task," Potter said, grinning smugly at me. "Tell Goldstein that you want to try out for Seeker and _do it._ Who knows? You might actually make the team." His grin then turned mischievous. "Just know that I won't show you any mercy when our teams play against each other."

"I think she gets the point, James," said Lupin drily from next to me. He had followed the conversation along thoughtfully, and I had almost forgotten he was there until he spoke.

"Just giving her a heads-up," he said, yawning. "And on that note, I think we can adjourn and head up to bed. We'll reconvene in two weeks to check up on each other's progress. Sound good, Georgie?"

I nodded, getting to my feet and brushing my dress off. The boys packed up and made ready to move out. I saw Lupin extract a ratty piece of parchment from his pocket, but Pettigrew's big head got in the way, so I couldn't see what it was. The three Gryffindors then ducked out of the tapestry, leaving me alone again with Sirius.

"Ready?" he asked, and when I nodded again, he threw the cloak over us before leading the way out of the passage.

The walk back to Ravenclaw Tower was even more torturously silent than the last, and I found myself gazing out of the white-washed windows as we picked our way through the corridors, as there was nothing better for me to do. We had just reached the landing of the seventh-floor corridor, however, when he finally spoke.

"I left," he said suddenly, making me jump at the unexpected sound. I turned to him in bewilderment, but he didn't make eye contact.

"What?" I said.

"The answer to your question," he replied. "About how I handle my family all being Slytherins: I left."

"You left," I said slowly. "You left…them?"

He nodded tightly. "Over the holiday. I moved in with James and his parents."

I blinked, shocked. "Why are you telling me this?"

He shrugged, seemingly unbothered, but I could see the strain in his eyes. "You asked."

I chewed on my lower lip, not even realizing how slow our pace had gotten until we stopped randomly in the middle of the corridor, each lost to our own thoughts.

"Oh," I said eventually. "Um, I'm sorry."

He shrugged again, his jaw tight, and I decided it would be best if maybe I left him alone.

"You know what," I said, wriggling out from under the cloak. "I can take it from here. I'm a prefect, no one will bother me, anyway. Thanks, though."

"No, sorry," he said, beginning to walk again and forcing me to shuffle along with him. "I didn't mean to make things weird. We're almost there, and James would kill me if he knew I had let you walk alone at night."

"It's Hogwarts," I pointed out. "It's not like anyone's going to kidnap me."

He sighed. "Will you just let the Gryffindor do the chivalrous thing?"

I cracked a smile at that. "Fine. Lead on, O Brave One."

"Never say that again, O Wise One."

I laughed, and he turned to me, pleasantly surprised.

"So, she does laugh?" he said, and I looked away, embarrassed. "I thought laughing was forbidden among Ravenclaws – too distracting from studying, I reckoned."

"Your preconception of House stereotypes is wrong, then," I said, suddenly growing irritable again. Every time I thought he wasn't so bad, he had to put his foot in his mouth again and prove me wrong.

"Ooh, did I touch a nerve?" he teased, grinning down at me. "Why so moody again, Valentine?"

"I've had a bad week," I retorted.

"I think that's exaggerating a little bit," he said, and even though a part of me registered that he was only joking, the last shred of my cool vanished instantly.

"So, crashing into the ground at full steam, getting a concussion and multiple broken bones, falling behind in every single one of my classes, reuniting with my estranged brother, and having a row with a blood supremacist ex-best friend is an _exaggeration?"_ I demanded.

"Calm down, Georgie, it was just a joke—"

"Don't tell me to calm down!" I practically screamed. "You're the one who riled me up in the first place!"

"By doing what? Breathing?" he asked incredulously.

"By being _you!"_ I shouted, stopping abruptly in the corridor and forcing him to halt with me, or else the cloak would slip off. I faced him angrily. "You, waltzing around and sticking your nose into business that isn't yours, just because you _can,_ because Rowena knows no one's going to stop you." I laughed derisively, wondering if I had finally snapped. "I mean, _me?_ What do you want from _me,_ Black? Why are you so obsessed with _my_ life? What is it about _me_ that has you so bloody interested?"

He stared at me for a long time, lips quirked, not saying anything. Finally, he turned and started walking again, the cloak dragging me along with him.

"No!" I wrestled myself out from underneath the cloak, glaring at the spot of empty air where I knew he was. "I'm getting an answer out of you, Black!"

"Fine!" He ripped off the cloak, appearing before me and looking frustrated and gloriously, annoyingly tousled. "You want to know why I'm so _bloody_ interested in you, Valentine? Because you're one of the only people I've ever met that can be _anything_ they wanted. You think you fit into some predestined box, but you _don't._ You are everything – you can _be_ anything if you just learned to stop doing what's expected of you all the ruddy time!"

"You've known me for, what – a month, at best?" My voice was turning shrill – dangerous territory. That usually meant I was about to start bawling, because that's what I do when I get angry – I cry. "You think you're so _perceptive,_ you're so _smart,_ that I'm 'an open book.'" I made air quotes around this last part, echoing his words to me from earlier in the week. I hadn't even realized that I had been steadily stalking toward him until my finger jabbed into his chest. "You are so _arrogant!_ Acting like you know everything about me, about everyone in this bloody school – Sirius Black, everyone! He's so superior! He knows everything!"

I was shouting now, but I didn't care who heard me. He was glaring at me, his face looking like it was chiseled from stone, it was so hard.

"You're a joke," I hissed. "How dreadfully boring your life must be to go around sticking your perfectly-structured nose in everyone else's!"

"I'm trying to help you!" he bellowed back.

"Help me with _what?"_ I shrieked.

"I don't bloody know!"

"You are _insane!"_

"You're insufferable!"

The next moment happened very fast. One second we were standing there, glaring daggers at each other, and the next we were completely entangled, snogging as if our lives depended on it.

As I mentioned before, I was not a prude. I had some experience with snogging, but nothing compared to this.

I had never been so wrapped up in someone before, pressing so close it felt like I was trying to meld my bones with his. His breath was hot and heavy, with one of his hands gripping my waist while the other skated along my back, dropping steadily lower. I broke apart long enough to gasp for air, but he growled and pulled me back in, my traitorous body complying easily.

He pressed me back into the wall of the corridor, kicking the cloak out of the way when it tripped up our feet. I lifted my leg on instinct and he grasped it immediately, bringing it to rest around his hip as he brushed against me, making me gasp involuntarily.

I hardly knew what I was doing in that empty corridor, snogging the soul out of Sirius Black, but I knew I didn't want it to stop. I wanted to keep going until nothing separated us anymore, and that thought was what finally seemed to snap me out of my trance.

I pushed him away on reflex, reality crashing back in a tidal wave of confusion and panic. Sirius pulled back instantly, as if he too had suddenly awakened from the Imperius Curse.

There were a million things running through my mind, but all I could choke out was, "Why?"

"I don't know." His voice was hoarse, but hearing it seemed to return my sanity to me, however much of it was left after this.

"Never speak of this," I whispered, before turning and sprinting away.

It didn't help a bit that I could still taste him on my lips, and the only thing I could use to describe it was that he tasted like freedom.

* * *

 **Please review! I'd love to hear your thoughts!**

 **I know Georgie's coming off as irritable and angry right now, but there's good reason for that that will continue to be explored as the story goes on, so bear with her (and me).**

 **And bonus points to whoever catches _The Clockwork Locket_ reference in here ;)**

 **xx**


	10. Having Fun

**Disclaimer:** _All rights go to JK Rowling. Anything you don't recognize is mine._

 **So, this chapter just kinda wrote itself and refused to be changed, so we're just gonna go with it and see where it takes us. In the words of Bob Ross: "We don't make mistakes; we have happy accidents." Which, coincidentally, is the entire motto for this story.**

 **Thank you for all the new favorites/follows, and many thanks to my reviewers from last time: Epochs, lindir's gaze, SophiaQuinn, Skendo, Travelilah, heroherondaletotherescue, Rohirrim Girl 2187, Hecade, LoveFiction2018, ForeverJoy13, LovelyFandomLover, prongslittleflower, thenightowl57, Li (Guest), Guest 1, and Guest 2!**

* * *

Chapter Ten: Having Fun

Another reason why my brothers were all Gryffindors while I was a Ravenclaw: I was a coward.

I spent the week after my _incident_ with Sirius Black doing everything in my power to avoid said Marauder and his goofy friends. I sat with my back to them at every meal and left with Hestia and Florence before they finished eating. I purposefully walked different routes to lessons to decrease my chances of running into them, and I rarely ventured anywhere that wasn't the Great Hall, the library, or Ravenclaw Tower outside of lessons. I feared Potions the most, since that was the class where I had to sit with Potter and Black, but some higher being must've been watching my back, for first thing on Monday Slughorn had announced that we would have open seating the rest of the term, which meant that I could continue avoiding them without feeling so guilty.

"Georgie, what on earth is going on?" said Hestia as she came back to our Potions table, carrying the ingredients we needed for our Mind-Muddling Potion. I glanced up to her from where I had been reading the directions, confused when I noticed her frazzled state.

"What do you mean?" I asked. "And what happened?"

I took in her mussed-up hair and irritable expression, and she huffed angrily. "Potter happened." I tried not to look guilty, but it was hard. "He practically tackled me in the storeroom just now, saying he needed to talk to you. What is he on about, Georgie? That stupid mentoring thing?"

"I hope," I muttered.

"What?"

I sighed. "It's nothing, Hess. He probably just wants to ask me more advice on how to get Evans to date him."

Hestia's eye twitched. "So, that warrants him attacking me in the storeroom?"

"Of course not," I said. "He's just a git. I'll talk to him later."

 _Preferably never,_ I couldn't help thinking.

Hestia took her seat with a grunt. "I hope you do, Georgie. And do something about Black too while you're at it, would you? He hasn't stopped staring over here all week."

This made my heart drop like a stone in my chest, but luckily, I managed to keep my expression neutral, despite everything in me screaming to run and hide.

 _Yep. Definitely not a Gryffindor._

* * *

I found myself in the library Friday night, having the absolute time of my life researching for my upcoming Transfiguration essay. Hestia and Florence had ditched me hours ago for some Hufflepuff's birthday party, but I didn't mind. I hated partying, particularly when it was a party hosted by someone I didn't know. This essay was worth a quarter of my final grade, though, so I had to make it my best work, and getting a head start would certainly help.

The library was practically empty as I meandered along the rows of books in the Transfiguration section. Besides some older Slytherin students hidden at the back tables in the bowels of the library, I was alone, and I was perfectly content with that. It felt nice to be away from the bustle of the castle and the other students, and it was the first time in a week that I wasn't anxious about running into Potter or Black.

I checked my reference list before turning back to the high shelves in front of me. The book I needed was just above, two rows higher than my head. I stood on my tiptoes and reached for the book, but I froze when I thought I heard someone snicker. My head swiveled left and right, checking the aisle to see if anyone was there, but I was still alone. Brushing it off as nothing, I continued to stretch for the book, wishing I hadn't left my wand in my bag so I could just Summon it instead.

Finally, I managed to grasp the bottom of it, and I tugged it out, my triumph lasting for only a second before a cascade of books fell on top of me.

"Bugger it all," I grumbled, dropping to my knees and quickly picking up the books. Though the crash had mostly been muffled, Madam Pince – the librarian – seemed to have a sixth sense when it came to her books, and I wasn't keen on having her screech at me for abusing library materials.

I had just gotten all the books into my arms before an amused voice said, "Books on the ground? Really, Valentine, I expected better from you."

The voice was so close and unexpected that I jumped violently, sending the books tumbling to the carpeted floor again. I spun in the direction of the offender, only to see Sirius Black propped against the bookshelf behind me, watching me with gleaming grey eyes and the arrogant smirk he'd had since first-year.

"How on earth did you sneak up on me?" I demanded, my bewilderment and mortification overriding my 'turn-and-run-screaming' instinct.

He shrugged. "You're really quite oblivious for a Ravenclaw sometimes. I've been here for at least five minutes. You just hadn't noticed."

I huffed, smoothing down my skirt and blouse out of reflex. "Well, I thought I was alone," I said, before I realized who I was talking to, and I quickly bent down to pick up the books again.

When he only stood there, I sighed, and said without looking up, "If you're not going to help me, can you just leave? I'm not in the mood to talk to anyone tonight."

"Anyone, or just me?" he said, unfortunately kneeling before me and beginning to grab up books. I kept my eyes on the varying tomes, pretending I hadn't heard him. Truthfully, I really didn't want to talk to anyone, but least of all him. Now that I was in his presence again, I couldn't stop thinking about what had happened in the corridor the previous weekend, and I fought desperately to keep the heat from rising to my face.

We finished picking up the books in silence when I didn't answer him, but since he had his wand, he charmed the books to fit back into their original spaces, leaving me with the volume I had first grabbed. I suddenly knew where that snicker I'd heard earlier had come from if he'd left me with this book, but I was so anxious to be free of his company that I didn't care if he'd been spying on me.

"Thanks," I said, not meeting his eyes, before turning and walking quickly down the aisle. I heard him start after me, to my great horror, but I picked up my pace – to no avail, as he was several inches taller than me, and had legs longer than mine.

"Georgie, wait," he said, falling into step with me. "What's gotten into you?"

"A modicum of common sense, finally," I snapped, rounding on him and forcing him to halt, or risk mowing me over. "I knew I never should've agreed to that partnership with Potter. I knew exactly the type of blokes you both were after watching what you did to Snape last term, but I stupidly got myself involved anyway. And now you're both causing me grief! Cornering my friends, talking me into doing ridiculous things, _snogging_ me—" I stopped, collecting my composure after mentioning the one thing I told myself to never bring up again. "You and Potter are bad news, Black, and I no longer want to be included in your tomfoolery. I truly wish Potter the best of luck regarding Evans, but I can't do this and retain my sanity at the same time. Goodnight."

I turned on my heel and stalked away from his gobsmacked expression, but I hadn't gone far before Black grabbed my elbow, whirling me around to face him again.

"You absolute _batty_ bird," he said incredulously. "You really can't see when someone's just trying to help you, can you?"

 _"Merlin,_ there you go again!" I hissed, yanking my arm out of his grasp. "What is it with you and 'helping' me, Black? I'm not some charity case, despite what you obviously think."

"You're not a charity case, Georgie, you're a friend," he said, his eyes flashing angrily. "And friends help each other out."

"And I suppose you and your other little mates enjoy befriending people in order to 'fix them'?" I said, quoting the last bit with my fingers. "After all, that's all I am, right? A project for you, because I'm not like you and your friends, and you can't _stand_ that, can you? I mean, how _dare_ I think differently from the Marauders, yeah?"

He stared at me. "You are amazingly dense, you know that? Always thinking the worst of people, always suspicious of their motives, because you won't allow yourself to think that someone might actually give a damn about you for just _you."_

My retort died on my tongue, and now it was my turn to stare as his words seemed to sink in one-by-one, like the first raindrops before a deluge. Seeing that he'd finally captured my attention, his expression softened before he continued.

"You're the Ravenclaw Queen," he said, using the terrible nickname I'd been stuck with for years once it became evident that I was at the top of the Ravenclaw class. "The shining example of perfection. The person everyone's always trying to cozy up to – for answers, for House points, for connections. And you think that no one notices you, but they do, and they try to take advantage of that blindness." He sighed. "I don't know what possessed James to talk to you that one night at Dirty's, but he did, and now we're here. He'll deny it if you point it out, but he's quite the mother hen, especially when it comes to the black sheep and the outcasts – like me."

"And me," I said quietly.

He seemed surprised by my own admission, but he nodded slowly. "Yeah. Like us."

I hesitated, chewing on my lower lip. Maybe, just _maybe,_ Sirius was right. Maybe I did push everyone away subconsciously, to protect myself from being used, from the feeling that came with realizing the people being nice to me were only trying to get ahead, before they turned around and acted like they couldn't be bothered with me anymore once they got what they wanted.

And maybe I'd been wrong to think that the Marauders just wanted those same things from me.

"Think on what I said," Sirius said, flicking a piece of hair away from my face. "And maybe soon we can put this all behind us."

He strolled away down the aisle, leaving me to wonder if he was referring to more than just my trust issues.

* * *

"So, why are we spying on the Ravenclaw tryouts?"

James rolled his eyes as the four Marauders picked their way down to the Quidditch Pitch Saturday afternoon, dressed in light jumpers and jeans to fit the warm, balmy day.

"We're not _spying,_ Pete," he said to the other boy, who was disgruntled after James had forced him to leave breakfast early to come to the pitch. "We're merely observing what sort of team Ravenclaw'll be putting together this year, so we can beat them when we play."

"So, spying, but in terms used to fit the word count on an essay," Remus said drily, causing Sirius to snort from his place beside the lanky Marauder, where he was walking with his hands in his pockets.

James ignored his friends, simply leading them into the stands, where they settled on a bench high above the rest of the students that had come to watch the tryouts, though Sirius noticed that they were the only Gryffindors present.

From up here, he could barely make out the Ravenclaws milling on the field below, though he recognized some of them; Vincent Goldstein, the team captain, Hestia Jones, one of the Chasers Georgie was friends with, and another Chaser, Emmeline Vance, who he vaguely recalled having a tryst with in fourth year. He let his gaze roam over the rest of the pitch, searching for an obnoxiously high, golden-blonde ponytail, but there was no sign of Georgie Valentine, not even as a spectator in the stands.

This observation annoyed him a lot more than it should have, but he blamed it on James for trying to get her to try out for the team in the first place. It was apparent that she wouldn't do it, no matter if she would make a bloody good Seeker. So, Sirius settled in on the stand, lounging back casually and ignoring the sly glances girls were beginning to send him from the lower benches now that they were aware of his presence.

Goldstein blew a whistle, and the meandering Ravenclaws trying out hustled to form a line. Most of the attendees were younger students, second through fourth years, but Sirius saw a seventh-year and a sixth-year peppered in, as well. The students trying out then split into two groups, one for Chasers, and one for Seekers, the only two available slots on the team. Sirius was already bored, but he looked up when Remus leaned forward intently on his other side, his expression awed.

"No way," he said, garnering the attention of James and Peter, as well. "She's actually doing it. I can't believe it."

"What are you on about, Moony?" said James, craning his neck to get a better view of the pitch.

"Valentine," he said, pointing. "Georgie's trying out. That's her right there, isn't it?"

Sirius followed his finger, his eyebrows shooting up when indeed he saw Georgie Valentine slipping into the Seeker group, clutching a school broom and her hair pulled into that severe ponytail that always made Sirius wonder if she had a permanent headache from it.

James's jaw dropped, and he suddenly looked as if he'd just been given a firstborn son. "That's my girl!" he shouted down to the pitch. "Yes, Georgie! WOOOO!"

The Ravenclaws on the field were looking around at the yelling, but Georgie was staring ahead resolutely, seeming entirely focused. He looked away from the Ravenclaw when he saw somebody sliding into the stands right below them, watching Nic Valentine take a seat by himself, a small smile on his face.

Sirius wondered if that meant brother and sister had made up after the Gryffindor tryout fiasco, but before he could ponder on it further, Goldstein blew the whistle again, and the Chasers began their tryouts.

The Chasers were lackluster for the most part. A handful couldn't even keep the Quaffle in the air, let alone pass it, and after only ten minutes Goldstein called them back down. Eight of the ten hopefuls walked dejectedly off the pitch, and after another round of flying, one of the two remaining was sent packing, leaving a large but fast fourth-year boy as the team's new Chaser.

After a round of applause from the team, they moved on to Seekers, and Sirius found himself nearing the edge of his seat as he watched, one-by-one, as the six people trying out took to the air to find the Snitch.

Though Georgie was slated to go last, Sirius's eyes often wandered back to her, each time being forcibly reminded of their snog in the corridor, despite how much he tried not to think of it. He still wasn't exactly sure who had made the first move, or why he'd gone through with it, but at the time it'd seemed like a good idea when he was faced with a pretty girl and overflowing anger that had needed an outlet.

And Godric, had she been the perfect outlet.

His ruminations were interrupted when Remus bumped his knee, gesturing to the pitch. "Georgie's up."

Pushing away all thoughts of complicated Ravenclaw girls, Sirius watched as Georgie mounted her broom and pushed off the ground, taking to the sky.

* * *

 _Okay, not bad so far. Not bad at all._

I know I said I was a coward, but I wasn't a quitter. I think I'd already made up my mind to try out after encouragement from both Nic and James, but my conversation with Sirius the night before was what had finally steeled my resolve to go through with it.

I was Georgie Valentine, the Ravenclaw Queen – and queens could conquer anything they wanted to.

And James had been right – I was addicted to the sensation of flying now. Up here, even on this rickety school broom that jolted alarmingly every few minutes, the world seemed to fall away, until it was just me and the Snitch.

I could hear Hestia shouting encouragement from below, and I smiled slightly at that; she'd been speechless when she saw me show up to the tryouts, and even Goldstein had looked shocked before he'd given me an approving nod and told me to line up.

While the Chasers had all tried out together, the Seekers were ranked individually based on how long it took them to find the Snitch, and if they even managed to catch it. Each flier was given a max of fifteen minutes, however, and I'd already been up here for five.

The Snitch was eluding me, so I began flying in wider and higher circles, remembering Sirius's advice about the broom responding to my instincts. Though clunky and slow, the broom was an avid listener, and it did what I wanted as I spiraled in the air. I passed by the spectator stands and saw Nic, of all people, giving me the thumbs-up from his seat, and the gesture gave me the confidence I needed.

Of course, the moment was ruined by James, who shouted, "YEAH, GEORGIE! GET THAT SNITCH!"

I waved him off, though I couldn't help the grin that spread across my face at his cheers. I got a glimpse of Sirius watching me, and though he was too far away to make out a facial expression, I could've sworn he had winked at me.

 _Focus, G. We are not here to think about Sirius Black._

Ten minutes had passed since I'd taken off, and I knew I needed to start wrapping this up. There had been five other people aiming for the Seeker position, but three had failed to catch the Snitch, leaving me with two contenders. One had been a slim, petite seventh-year with spiky black hair named Lena Baker, who'd caught the Snitch in twelve minutes, and the other a lean third-year boy who said his name was Joey Alvarez, who'd caught it in thirteen. Which meant that if I wanted to beat them, I had approximately one minute to do so.

By some stroke of luck, right after I thought this, a flash of gold whizzed past me, and I brought my broom up to watch the Snitch zip around me in a blur before zooming off again.

I leaned forward and urged the broom after it, but I realized fleetingly that it was much too slow to chase after it, which meant that I had to be smart – and patient.

Instead of following the Snitch, I tracked its movements with my eyes as best as I could, calculating its direction and noticing its patterns. A bead of sweat rolled down my face, and I knew I only had about thirty more seconds to beat Baker's time if I wanted to become Seeker.

 _Come on, Snitch. One more dip, that's all I'm asking…_

The Snitch dodged to the left, and I sprung into action as it dropped down, just as I had bet on. My hand darted out with a speed I hadn't known was there, and I looked down to the struggling little ball in my hand, its wings beating against my fingers fruitlessly.

I couldn't believe it. I caught the Snitch. I'd actually caught the damn thing.

Dazed, I floated back down to the ground, still staring at the golden ball in my hand. Hestia pounced on me as soon as my feet hit the grass, her squeals nearly bursting my eardrums.

"You did it!" she cried. "I knew you could do it, Georgie! I'm so proud!"

The rest of the Ravenclaw team were giving me a polite round of applause, and Lena Baker strolled over to me, shaking my empty hand.

"Not bad, Valentine," she said warmly. "You beat my time by seven and a half seconds."

"Thank you," I said, probably smiling at her like an idiot as others came over to congratulate me. Goldstein patted my shoulder, checking his clipboard.

"You were the fastest to catch the Snitch, Georgie," he said. "Your flying skills need some work, but that's what practice is for. Congrats – you're our new Seeker."

Hestia hugged me again, and I wrapped my arms around her neck, laughing partly from the dissipating nerves and adrenaline, and partly from the euphoria of succeeding in something that I'd done for _me._ Not for my parents. Not for my teachers. But _me._

"And the Valentine gene for Quidditch lives on," said a familiar voice, and I turned to see Nic standing behind me, a broad grin on his face as he shook his head. "If someone told me a year ago that my little sister would be on the Quidditch team, I would've laughed in their face."

I snorted. "Are you kidding me? If someone had told _me_ that, I would've just jinxed them."

Nic held up his hand, and I slapped it in a high-five. "Godric, wait until Mum and Dad find out about this. They're going to lose it," he said, shaking his head.

"I think Sam and Simon might actually die of shock," I agreed. Sam would probably think it was all a joke, but at least Simon would be proud, once he got over the initial surprise. Nic was right, though; Mum and Dad weren't going to be pleased once they heard the news. They were the ones who had encouraged me to stay inside and read whenever my brothers had been allowed to practice Quidditch in the garden, and I knew they were going to think that me being on the team was detrimental to my grades since I would have less time to study.

But for once, I didn't care what they would think.

* * *

I was nearly skipping as I made my way back to the school's broom shed to return the broomstick I'd borrowed for tryouts. After Goldstein had handed me the schedule for that term's practices and Nic had congratulated me once more, everyone had dispersed to enjoy the rest of their Saturday now that tryouts were over. Hestia had promised to secure me some "victory cupcakes" (her words, not mine) from the kitchens and tell Florence the news before I met them back in the common room to celebrate, and I felt like I was floating as I approached the shed.

As I got closer, I saw someone leaning against the wooden structure with their arms crossed and one foot kicked back against the door, and the stance was so carefree and arrogantly casual that I knew it was Sirius without even having to see the tousled black hair, perfect smirk, and stormy grey eyes that I'd come to know so well.

Though the Marauders had been in the stands, they hadn't come down to the field to congratulate me, and I eyed Sirius pointedly as I walked up to him.

"Here to say, 'I told you so?'" I asked. "Go on, I'll allow it just this once. You were right, after all."

His smirk grew wider at my comment, and his voice was tinged with smugness as he said, "I told you so."

I smiled, too pleased with how the day had turned out to be mad at him anymore. And perhaps I shouldn't have been angry in the first place; for some reason, Sirius Black was trying to help me shed the skin of my old, suffocating life, and I couldn't fault him for my own fears of change.

The thought brought me up short as I suddenly realized – I was changing. Agreeing to James's partnership, forgiving my brother, joining the Quidditch team, even snogging Sirius Black, were all things I never would have imagined myself doing, but I had done them.

And I was _having fun_ doing them.

"What?" Sirius said, bemused by the grin that was slowly spreading across my face as I looked back to him, a new understanding taking hold of my body. "You're freaking me out, Valentine." When I only kept gazing at him, undoubtedly creeping him out further with my smile, he chuckled, baffled. "What, Georgie? Speak."

"I'm having fun," I said, amazed. "Sirius – I'm actually having _bloody fun."_

"Who knew James could be such an inspiring teacher?" he joked. "This is a bloody miracle, Valentine."

"I know," I said in disbelief. "I can't believe James ruddy Potter was right."

He laughed, a loud, barking laugh that I'd never heard before, and that I never would've thought to hear before this year, and I was fascinated by it. I was fascinated by Sirius Black.

I tossed the broomstick aside and grabbed his face, pulling it down to meet mine as I kissed him. He was rigid for a few seconds, and I considered stopping, but suddenly his hands were at my back, pressing me closer as his lips began to move in tandem with mine.

He drew back slightly after several moments, and I opened my eyes to see him staring down at me, a wild, mischievous gleam in his eyes that made me think of stormy seas and waves crashing against a silver shore, a dangerous, reckless abandonment that used to terrify me, but now I craved it.

"What are you doing?" he asked, though he hadn't released me from his grip.

"Having fun," I replied breathlessly, and apparently that was enough of an answer for him.

He dipped his head, his lips finding mine again, and I tangled my fingers in his hair, the taste of freedom settling on my tongue once more and filling my every breath as he pulled me against him, nearly lifting me off the ground.

The sudden chatter of voices forced us apart, and I peeked my head around the shed, seeing a gaggle of Hufflepuffs making their way toward us, presumably to borrow the ancient Quaffle the teams used for practices for some weekend pick-up game.

I was flushed and wild-eyed, and I _so_ didn't want these Hufflepuffs to wonder what I was doing alone at the broom shed with Sirius Black, which he seemed to sense, for he grabbed my elbow and whispered, "Come on, over here."

He was gesturing to the borders of the Forbidden Forest, and I shook my head mutely, my eyes screaming, _Are you crazy?_

He gazed back imploringly. _Trust me._

After a slight hesitation, in which the Hufflepuffs had gotten uncomfortably closer, I finally nodded, and we sprinted into the trees, ducking behind some bushes as the Hufflepuffs approached the shed.

"That was close," he muttered, as one of the Hufflepuffs speculated why there was a random broomstick on the ground.

"No kidding," I replied. "Rowena, can you imagine if they'd seen? The rumor mill would be working overtime."

Sirius gave me an amused glance. "You were the one who kissed me first, let's not forget."

I blushed, already mortified with myself for essentially pouncing on him like some starved animal. "Look, I'm sorry—"

"Don't be," he said, waving me off. "It was bound to happen again at some point."

I whirled on him. _"Excuse me?"_

"What?" He shrugged, unbothered by my shrill tone. "I'm just saying that there was some tension between us there for a while—"

"So, you thought I'd snog you again instead of punching your face in? Which, by the way, I've thought of doing multiple times—"

"Oh, I don't doubt it." He gave me a cocky grin. "I do have that effect on women sometimes."

I rolled my eyes. "Come off it, Sirius—"

I didn't get a chance to finish, for suddenly he was right there again, his face inches from mine as he leaned closer.

"You're cute when you're flustered," he said, grinning, and I forgot how to breathe for a moment. "Has anyone ever told you that?"

I groaned, dropping my head. "Now you're just embarrassing me."

"On the contrary, Georgie, I'm giving you a compliment."

"What are we still doing here?" I demanded. "Those Hufflepuffs left five minutes ago."

"I was under the impression that you wanted to continue our earlier activity."

I choked. "I'm sorry, _what?"_

He shrugged. "I thought you were having a revolutionary moment there. 'Having fun' and all that."

I stared at him, but before I could retort anything, he had already stood up, dragging me to my feet.

"C'mon," he said cheerfully, leading me out of the forest. "I want to show you something."

"What?" I was utterly confused by what was happening. One moment I'm snogging Sirius Black for the second time in a week, and the next he was pulling me along as he gallivanted off to who-knows-where.

"We're having fun, Georgie," he said, turning around to smirk at me. "Just remember that you're the one who started this whole thing when you begin to question my sanity."

And on that lovely note, he dragged me back towards the castle.

* * *

 **Please review! I always love hearing your thoughts!**

 **All I'm gonna say here is: Don't get too comfortable ;)**

 **xx**


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